


The Missing Piece

by cfcureton



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Island, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-26 02:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 112,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cfcureton/pseuds/cfcureton
Summary: Oliver and Felicity’s first meeting seems promising, but will the fact that they’re each keeping a secret doom their relationship before it begins?





	1. Chapter 1

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

The plastic bag opened with a satisfying POP and Felicity Smoak emptied the puzzle pieces contained within onto the table. She smiled to herself as she scattered the pieces out across the flat surface, enjoying the peace of repetitive motion as she flipped them right side up and disconnected the few that had come out of the bag already joined together.

“Those are freebies. Why would you want to take them apart,” she heard from behind her, and she tilted her head to the side without looking back, her fingers never pausing.

“No, it’s cheating,” she replied playfully, and caught sight of a hand reaching out near her to flip a random puzzle piece over.

“Cheating, huh,” the male voice attached to the hand continued, and she nodded.

“You have to start from square one, otherwise you didn’t do the whole puzzle yourself. Cheating.” Felicity finally glanced up at her companion and nearly gasped. He was gorgeous. 

Their eyes met and his smile widened. He seemed relaxed and confident, two things she suddenly was not. 

“May I,” he asked, indicating the chair almost directly across from her at the table, and she nodded.

“Hi, I’m Oliver.”

“Felicity,” she responded, dropping her eyes back to the table as she felt her face getting warm. This was definitely not the moment to break out her patented head-to-toe blush. 

He said no more, and they worked in silence for a few minutes. When almost all of the pieces were flipped over she shifted her focus to collecting border pieces into one spot. Oliver finished turning up all the pieces and then joined her in separating the edge pieces out, sliding them toward her with nimble fingers. 

“You are obviously a puzzle expert,” he said softly, the hint of a smile in his voice. 

“My grandma and I used to do them together. How about you?”

Oliver shrugged one shoulder, but didn’t lift his gaze from their work. “During the winter we always had one out on a table. It was nice to just walk by and put a piece in now and again.”

Felicity sighed wistfully. “I wish we’d had the room to do that. It sounds fantastic.”

Oliver’s eyes flicked to her and she felt him giving her an appraising look. She swallowed and tried to concentrate, not looking up.

“What brings you to a nursing home on a Thursday afternoon,” he asked then.

“My company gives everyone two paid days off a year for community service, so I’m using one today.” She couldn’t make herself look at him, exactly, but she did manage to focus closer to his hands. 

“What company do you work for?”

“Queen Consolidated,” she replied. He hummed politely, but said no more. 

Just then, a friendly-looking middle-aged woman strode up behind Oliver with a smile on her face.

“Oliver,” she began, placing a plump hand on his shoulder, “Agnes is feeling under the weather today, and the ladies need a fourth for Bridge. They asked if you were available.”

Oliver glanced up at the woman and gave her a winning smile. 

“How could I say no?”

“Wonderful. They’re just finishing up lunch now, so fifteen minutes or so?”

He nodded and she walked away. 

“Bridge, huh?” Felicity couldn’t help herself; it just slipped out. Oliver huffed a surprised laugh.

“What?”

She was finally able to look him in the eye again, and was met with a slightly self-conscious smirk. 

“It just seems like an older man’s game.”

He laughed again, his gaze dropping to the table and his cheeks beginning to turn pink. Felicity’s own smile widened. Suddenly his super-hotness just looked adorable, and her confidence grew.

“I bet I’m not the only kid who learned to play cards on the fly to appease their grandmother’s Bridge club,” he reasoned, his smile widening when she laughed. “What about your grandma?”

Felicity had a sudden, horrible vision of Oliver discovering that her grandmother had been banned from every casino in Las Vegas for counting cards, and swallowed hard. 

“She used to play,” she managed to squeak out. An awkward moment was imminent, she could feel it, and her cheeks went hot again. “She, uh, used to play a lot, but she had a series of strokes a couple of years ago, and now she can’t do much. She’s in a nursing home in Vegas.”

“Is that home,” Oliver asked softly, and she nodded without looking up. 

“Between college and this new job I haven’t seen her hardly at all the last few years. I thought maybe spending some time here might make me feel like I was helping somebody else’s grandma, you know?”

She watched his fingers still on the table and risked a glance up at him. He was...just gazing at her, which was not helping her blush AT ALL. Deflect, deflect, she thought wildly.

“Do you work here,” she asked, and succeeded in getting him to stop looking at her.

“Um, I volunteer here,” he said, his eyes on the work his hands were doing. He was clearly not interested in talking any more about himself. Felicity cringed inwardly at the sudden awkwardness between them, but rescue arrived in the shape of a tiny old lady in a wheelchair, pushed by a nurse’s aide.

“Is this a young person’s game, or can anybody play,” she asked tartly, and Felicity saw Oliver’s eyes light up at the sound of her voice.

“Hi Miss Mary! Come join us,” he offered, jumping up to take over maneuvering her chair up to the table.

“Mary, this is Felicity. She’s volunteering for today. Felicity, this is Mary Elizabeth Watkins.” Mary swatted at him as he locked the wheels of her chair in place.

“It’s just Mary. They only call me Mary Elizabeth when I’m in trouble, which is more often than you’d think when I’m with this one.” She hooked a thumb in Oliver’s direction and he grinned. 

“What’s this mess going to look like when it’s done,” she asked, waving a wrinkly hand over the puzzle with a sharp eye on Felicity. 

Felicity picked up the puzzle box and presented it, picture side up, to the woman. It was a landscape scene of a snow-covered mountain in the background and a sea of yellow and white wildflowers in the foreground.

“Huh,” she said, apparently not overly impressed by the promised result. She shrugged her hunched shoulders and flipped the box back in Felicity’s general direction. “Okay, I’m in.”

Oliver and Felicity shared a grin over the top of Mary’s head as she began shuffling through the pieces. 

“Border pieces first,” she ordered, and when Felicity pointed to the work they’d already started Mary’s eyes lit up. “Clever girl,” she praised, then pooched out her lips in concentration.

“Oliver, they’re ready for you,” the friendly woman called from across the room, and Mary’s focus switched to his handsome face.

“Where they sending you,” she asked, hand frozen above the puzzle pieces as she waited for his answer.

“Bridge,” he sighed in return. “Agnes is sick.”

Mary’s face scrunched up in disgust and she swatted her hand at him again.

“Oh, Agnes, that old biddy. What a drama queen.” 

Felicity almost laughed out loud, and she could tell Oliver was stifling his own reaction as their eyes met. He rose from his seat and laid an affectionate hand on Mary’s shoulder as he moved away from the table. 

“See you later, ladies,” he said, winking at Felicity before walking away and causing her face to heat up again. 

“So,” Mary began when he was barely out of earshot, “when are you two going out?”

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Oliver Queen was skulking and he knew it. He was just not in the mood to be helpful today. He’d already hidden out for much of the morning in plain sight, walking around with purpose like he was already on an errand, in hopes that no one would actually ask him to do anything. 

He’d decided to kill a few minutes pretending to reorganize the game cabinet when he heard a loud POP and turned to see a petite blonde with a swinging ponytail sitting with her back to him a few feet away at the puzzle table. He watched, fascinated by her bubblegum pink fingernails, as she emptied a brand new puzzle from a plastic bag onto the table and began sorting out the pieces, but she really grabbed his attention when she took apart the pieces that had come out of the bag already put together. 

Oliver couldn’t help himself; he approached her from behind, a smile in his voice.

“Those are freebies. Why would you want to take them apart?”

He was a little surprised that she didn’t turn around, only tilted her head to the side in a jaunty way and teased him back.

“No, it’s cheating.”

He couldn’t resist reaching out to flip a puzzle piece over, really wanting her to look at him. His ego loved the moment when women got the total Oliver Queen Effect for the first time. But this girl didn’t seem to play by the usual rules. 

“Cheating, huh,” he continued, determined to get her to look up. She only nodded, so he flipped another piece over at random.

“You have to start from square one, otherwise you didn’t do the whole puzzle yourself. Cheating.”

Oliver was finally rewarded by having her look at him, and he swallowed in surprise; she was beautiful. And by the way her mouth suddenly closed and her lips pressed together, she was thinking the same thing about him. 

He smiled as their eyes met, suddenly VERY interested in the fate of this particular puzzle. It seemed his afternoon project had found him, for once.

Oliver asked her permission to sit and initiated the introductions, tickled by her attempt to keep from blushing. It wasn’t often that he’d met a beautiful woman who didn’t realize it, and the more he watched her cheeks turn a delicious shade of pink, the more he felt the need to convince her of her beauty. 

They worked in silence for several minutes, and he glanced up at her from under his lashes as often as he could. She seemed intent on avoiding his gaze, however, so when he saw her begin to sort through the border pieces he decided to try starting a conversation again.

Things were progressing nicely, and then her voice turned wistful when he mentioned having a puzzle out permanently growing up, and he couldn’t help looking at her for real: His mind flashed to the sight of that lonely puzzle, stuck in one corner of a large and little-used room in an equally large and dysfunctional house, and wondered if she would think it so fantastic if she’d seen it for herself. 

She surprised him again when she told him she was using a paid work day to volunteer, because he only knew of one company in Starling City that offered paid service days, and that was his family’s. She confirmed this to be the case, and though it set up the perfect opening for him to impress her with who he really was (an opportunity he had never missed with a cute girl before), he found himself only humming politely. 

Before he could even wrap his head around this new development, he felt Carol the Activity Director’s hand on his shoulder and suppressed a frown. This woman was incapable of being in a bad mood; it was supremely annoying.

“Oliver, Agnes is feeling under the weather today, and the ladies need a fourth for Bridge. They asked if you were available.”

He managed to cover a groan of frustration—the last thing he needed right now was the constant cheek pinching and snarky gossip of the Bridge ladies—and gave Carol his most charming smile. Hopefully she didn’t notice that his teeth were gritting together. 

“Bridge, huh,” Felicity said playfully, snapping him out of his inner funk, and he couldn’t help his flirty “What?”

She came back with “It just seems like an older man’s game,” and he was surprised yet again by this woman. It was suddenly his turn to feel bashful, and he marveled at the blush in his own cheeks: Oliver Queen, as a rule, never blushed. 

He was happy to see that his reaction to her teasing had made her bolder, and as they continued to chat he almost lost himself in her lovely blue eyes; he got caught staring at least once, he was sure. 

But beyond her good looks, he was struck by her motivation for being here; it took a special heart to spend the day at a nursing home when you had no one in particular to see. It seemed he was continually entering new and fascinating territory with her. 

And then she dropped the bombshell question—do you work here—and all the fun and lightness fled the room as his happy bubble popped. Because there was no good way to tell someone you just met—and would definitely like to meet again—that you were performing court-ordered community service at a local nursing home for peeing on a cop car. He’d already spent numerous hours trying to think of a good way to sell that, but it just didn’t work.

Oliver hid behind a vague “volunteering” answer and prayed that she wouldn’t pry further, and she seemed to pick up on his sudden discomfort and asked no more questions. 

Their light-hearted banter had fallen to awkward silence, and just as he was about to write off this potential hook-up as a complete failure he heard the voice of his savior.

Miss Mary—with her sparkling wit, wicked comebacks, and occasional bawdiness—had brightened every day that he’d been here so far. He endured endless fawning and compliments from the female (and sometimes male) residents, but Mary was the only person in the place who didn’t give a shit about his looks or his money. She had told him so, in those exact words. 

He jumped up, eager to help her settle in, and enjoyed watching Felicity’s reaction to her high jinx, especially when Mary started in on Agnes. (He knew there was no love lost between them, which is why he mentioned her name just to stir her up.)

When the time came to leave them he gave his new acquaintance a bold wink, confident that Miss Mary would handle things while he was gone. 

By the end of the day he expected to have a date planned with Felicity.


	2. Chapter 2

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS

“So, when are you two going out?”

Felicity’s mouth opened and closed several times in the perfect imitation of a fish on dry land. Her companion continued to poke through the mess of puzzle pieces with one finger, a wry smile on her face. 

“Wha...uh...he...” she stumbled, that blush evidently deciding to just take up permanent residence. Mary let out a rusty laugh that ended in a wheezy cackle.

“You want to, and you should. That boy is sexy.” She stared up into space for a second. “Reminds me a bit of my second husband.”

Felicity was still frozen in mortification when she felt Mary tap the hand closest to her.

“Hey, I like that nail polish color. Think you could do mine?”

She dropped her gaze to her hands, trying to catch up with the jump in conversation topics. 

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” she replied lamely, but then her hands twitched up as she shrugged. “But I don’t have the bottle with me.”

Mary grunted, unconcerned. “So come back tomorrow.”

“I have a job, Miss Mary. I have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Oh? Where do you work?”

“Queen Consolidated. I work in IT. Computers,” she clarified, not sure if Mary would understand the acronym.

The old woman’s eyes shifted to hers with a new light in them and her lips pushed into an “O”. Felicity side-eyed her, not sure what that look meant. Mary chuckled, but didn’t explain her reaction.

“Come Saturday. All my friends are dead, my family never visits, and I hate most of these old farts.” She waved a hand around herself vaguely. “This puzzle won’t put itself together. Besides, Albert eats the loose pieces if you don’t watch him.”

“Albert,” Felicity repeated faintly, hoping she was referencing some kind of community pet. She hadn’t really planned to make this a regular thing, but she also didn’t have what one could call a social life. Up until this moment her Saturday plans had included pajamas, Netflix, and ice cream. 

“Um, okay. Saturday. Puzzles and manicures,” Felicity confirmed with a nod, thinking of her grandma and NOT the possibility of seeing more of Oliver. 

Speaking of the man in question though, the longer she sat wondering about him, the more jittery she got. He was, by her definition, out of her league, and despite Mary’s prodding she just didn’t see the two of them going anywhere. He could have a string of leggy models on speed dial. Sheesh. 

Besides the obvious disparity in their levels of hotness, there was the giant, glaring, (secret) elephant in the room; the elephant that had kept her from reaching out to start any kind of personal relationship in the few months that she’d lived in Starling. 

Just because her name wasn’t readily associated with the notorious Cooper Seldon didn’t mean that her part in all that mess wouldn’t come out, and if it did there was no way a Fortune 500 like QC would let her stay on as a janitor, let alone as an IT security expert. She had moved across the country specifically to put as much space as possible between her past and her future, and as long as Cooper stayed in prison she felt cautiously optimistic that she could pull it off. But that meant no over-sharing with cute boys, and over-sharing was, unfortunately, one of her headlining traits.

Felicity kept checking the time with more frequency, trying to calculate how long a game of Bridge would last. She was quite sure Oliver was planning to come back as soon as he got the chance, and suddenly she had the urge to bolt. 

“Miss Mary, I, um, have to go for today,” she began, quickly sweeping the scattered puzzle pieces closer to the center of the table so that the casual brush of a passing arm wouldn’t knock any off (I REALLY hope Albert is an animal, she thought), and patted the woman on her shoulder. “Can I, uh, take you anywhere before I go?”

Mary’s shrewd gaze burned into hers for a moment, but then she shook her head no. She shooed her hand away dismissively and poked a finger back into the puzzle pieces.

“See you Saturday,” the woman said firmly.

“Yes ma’am.” 

Felicity fled. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ

Oliver rounded the corner into the common area with a sigh of relief. How a card game could turn otherwise sweet old ladies into cutthroat mob bosses, he would never know. 

He pulled up short when only Mary’s hunched form still sat at the puzzle table. He crossed the room in long strides, hoping her companion had just gotten up to go to the bathroom or something.

“Hey Miss Mary,” he said, laying a large hand against the back of her bright purple cardigan, “where’s Felicity?”

“Ah, you’re back in one piece, I see. I worry about you with that Bridge crowd. Have a seat.”

He dropped into the chair beside her and tried to catch her eye, but she was busy picking out all the blue sky pieces and clumping them together. 

“Mary? Where did Felicity go?”

“Felicity has left the building,” she announced flamboyantly, then paused to finally look at him. “I was at that concert, you know.”

“What?”

“Elvis. My daughter wanted to go.” She sighed in remembrance as she stared off into space. “I bet that man was good in bed.”

“Mary,” Oliver interrupted with gritted teeth. Sometimes, this woman. 

Mary shrugged and went back to her sorting. “She said she had to go.”

Oliver cursed under his breath and stared out the window for a moment. He didn’t know her last name, but he knew where she worked, so finding her again wouldn’t actually be a big problem. 

“You going to help me with this or what,” Mary demanded. Oliver huffed a laugh, then grabbed after her hand and squeezed lightly. 

“Stop it, you. I swore I’d never marry again. Back to work.”

He dutifully complied.

———————————————————————-

Friday morning dawned bright but incredibly cold. Oliver lay in bed, one hand behind his head, and thought about meeting Felicity the day before. He should find her today, he decided. Then he sighed in frustration; he was supposed to be “volunteering”. 200 hours of community service felt like overkill for the offense he’d committed, but then again it was better than the jail time he probably deserved. Still, Mary notwithstanding, he just wasn’t feeling the nursing home vibe today. 

He rolled over and burrowed back under the covers. He’d sleep a bit more, work out, and then head into the city to find his mystery girl.

———————————————————————-

The trick to getting around Queen Consolidated was to avoid meeting up with either of his parents. He had always been free to go where he liked in the building, but after this latest incident he was under closer scrutiny—and more disapproval—than usual. 

He’d slept in longer than he planned, so by the time he got around to heading downtown it was already the middle of the afternoon. Oliver swung by the first floor coffee shop before heading up to the 29th floor. Pat in HR was his goal; she was about his mother’s age but had, alas, never married, and was therefore the perfect target for a little Oliver Queen charm. 

It only took a few minutes of idle chit chat and a two creamer coffee pushed across the desk (‘You remembered,’ she had gasped in delight) to get her to look up the information he needed. She jotted it down on a post-it note for him and smiled with all her teeth when he thanked her. 

He turned the corner out of her department with his eyes down on the note, and never saw his father coming until they were nose to nose in the hallway. The eyes he met when he finally looked up were not pleased. 

“Hey, dad,” he managed, but the look didn’t change.

“My office.”

Oliver suppressed a very colorful curse word and followed his father into the elevator. The ride up was silent. 

“Did you go to the nursing home today,” Robert Queen began as soon as they turned into the hallway of the executive offices. Oliver rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

“Ah, no. Didn’t make it in there today.” He was hoping a roguish smile would do the trick, but he was wrong. His father’s face stayed frozen in anger and disappointment. 

“I called in the last favor I had to keep you out of jail this time. How we managed to keep the whole incident out of the press is a testament to your mother’s reach in the PR world. And yet, you still remain ungrateful.”

Oliver winced at his father’s volume and kept his head down: Was there really a point to dragging him up to his office if he was just going to yell at him in the hallway?

“Dad,” he tried, which was apparently the wrong thing to say, or at least the wrong tone of voice, because Robert exploded. He grabbed his son by both arms and wrenched him around until they were face to face.

“You are going to use this opportunity to get your life together and better yourself! Do you understand me?!”

“Yes sir,” Oliver whispered bitterly, eyes lowered. When his father didn’t immediately let go he forced himself to look up. What he saw in his father’s face shocked him, because beyond the usual anger and disapproval he also saw fear: Robert Queen was afraid of losing his son. 

The Queen Consolidated CEO dropped his hands, then huffed a sigh and glanced at his watch.

“Since you’re here, go down and see Walter. He wants to release some of your shares of stock for a new investment, but he needs your signature.” Oliver nodded silently. Just as he was turning to go his father’s voice stopped him.

“You are expected to be at dinner and to stay home tonight.”

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS

Felicity had spent the better part of her afternoon daydreaming about Oliver...what’s-his-name. Who doesn’t think to get someone’s last name, she wondered to herself in annoyance. Although there would seem to be little point if you never planned to see him again, which she definitely DID NOT. 

So, she counseled herself, you are better off knowing as little as possible about the guy anyway. Let it go, Smoak.

“Did you say something,” a voice above her asked, and Felicity jerked in surprise and nearly brained herself on the underside of the voice’s desk.

“Ouch! Uh, no. Just about finished down here.”

She fought back a sneeze from the dust she’d stirred up and set about reconnecting all the cords she had just spent ten minutes untangling in the dark depths under the executive assistant’s desk. She was definitely glad it was casual Friday in IT and she was wearing khaki pants and flats.

She was still fishing cords here and there when a very angry male voice rose outside in the hall.

“You are going to use this opportunity to get your life together and better yourself! Do you understand me?!”

“Yikes,” she said quietly, stilling for a moment in contemplation. “Is that how they motivate around here,” she wondered out loud. The voice above her spoke back in a low, conspiratorial tone.

“That’s Mr Queen, giving his son a pep talk,” she muttered, and Felicity couldn’t help the commiserating noise that slipped out. She hated to see suffering, and she didn’t care for yelling either. She may not have had much of a father growing up, but at least he’d never yelled. 

By the time everything was put back in place and she’d crawled out from under the desk the drama was over and the hall was empty. Felicity kept her head down, just in case, and scurried back to IT. 

An hour later she was sitting in the humid warmth of the Chinese Take Out around the corner from QC. Chinese food always made her think of Caitlin and Cisco, her college besties. She and Caitlin had been assigned to the same freshman orientation group (Smoak, Snow, thank Google and alphabetizing), and the two had bonded immediately. During their first week of school they had practically tripped over Cisco Ramon as he (unsuccessfully) tried to woo women with his (very bad) guitar playing in the commons. They had adopted him at once, and the three had been inseparable from then on. 

Until, of course, graduation, when both of them had received job offers in the same department in Central City’s Star Labs, and she had taken the job at QC. They texted and emailed throughout the day, and Face Timed regularly, but it wasn’t the same. 

Between the Chinese food (the first Friday of every month was always their Chinese takeaway night, had been for years), and the mysterious Oliver what’s-his-name, Felicity was in dire need of some time with her peeps. 

She pushed out the door into the brutal cold—this was supposed to be the Pacific Northwest, not Minnesota—and straight into a wall of muscle. A wall of muscle with large hands that steadied her when she would’ve fallen backwards.

“Are you okay—Hey, Felicity!”

“Oliver?” She knew three people in this city, including her doorman, but this was the person she had to run into. He stepped back from her and put his hands in the pockets of his navy pea coat, his breath fogging in the cold. 

“I was hoping to run into you again. Well, not literally, of course,” he added awkwardly, laughing lightly at himself. 

Felicity wasn’t sure if it was the surprise of seeing him or the bitter cold, but she was momentarily struck dumb. So this is how the other half lives, she mused, considering life as a mute.

She clutched the bag of food against her, conscious of the fact that standing around in these temperatures was essentially flash-freezing her dinner, and stared up at him, silent. Oliver cleared his throat and continued.

“So, um, I was wondering when you’d have another paid service day to use.” She blinked up at him. “For the puzzle.” His head lifted slightly away from her as he stared at her staring back at him. “At...the nursing home?”

“Nursing home. Yes. No. I mean, no, I really just started working at QC, and I had to ask special permission to use that day yesterday, so I probably can’t get another one right away.” He nodded a little sadly.

Don’t tell him about tomorrow, don’t tell him about tomorrow, she warned herself. “I’m going to be there tomorrow, though.” Smooth, Smoak.

“Saturday?” He said it like it had never occurred to him that such a thing was possible. Her selective mutism had apparently been disengaged, because she rushed on.

“Or I was just heading home with this—“ she held the bag of food up as if it had been invisible until just then. “I always get enough to eat the next day as well, you know, leftovers, so there’d be plenty for, um, two.” What. Are. You. Doing.

“Really?” His eyes lit up for just a second, but then his face fell into disappointment. “I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. I have to...” he gestured vaguely in the opposite direction and she immediately felt like a fool. OF COURSE he would already have plans on a Friday night.

“Of course you already have plans on a Friday night,” she said immediately, laughing at her own stupidity. “Forget I said that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking genuinely concerned that she’d gotten the wrong idea. “It’s not a date. Just a...commitment. Chinese food with you would be much more fun, believe me.” He smiled shyly at her, and she swore if her cheeks weren’t already bright pink from the cold they would be from her blush.

“But Saturday,” he continued. “Saturday sounds good.” He waited for her to nod her assent, then smiled. “Meet you at the puzzle table?”

He backed his way down the street a few steps, holding her gaze for as long as possible before turning to jog across the intersection. Felicity sighed. 

This was not the way to keep the giant elephant in her life invisible. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

After the day he’d had, Oliver Queen couldn’t believe his luck. 

He’d signed the stupid paperwork in Walter’s office and then jetted down to IT, only to find Felicity’s desk empty. It was neat as a pin, a coffee mug sporting the smiley face emoji wearing glasses rinsed out and air drying in anticipation of Monday morning.

He’d used the service elevator on his way out, just in case his father was also leaving, but he’d forgotten that it would dump him out at the back of the building. He sighed, pulled up the collar of his coat, and set off to circle the building and get to the parking garage. 

She bounced off of him as he paused in front of a Chinese carry out place to let a knot of people pass him on the sidewalk; he managed to reach out and grab her before she went down, and only realized after he’d stabilized her who it was. 

“Are you okay—Hey, Felicity!”

It was mid-winter, and it had been dark for at least an hour, but he swore in that moment the sun was shining on him.

“I was hoping to run into you again.” Oh God, Oliver. Really? “Well not literally, of course.” His laugh sounded slightly hysterical to his own ears. 

Felicity must have thought so too, because she just stared at him like she couldn’t decide if he was an axe murderer or not. Just get on with it and ask her out, he chided himself.

But instead of Smooth Oliver, Master of All He Surveyed, he gave her Nervous, Bumbling Oliver Who Had Never Gone on a Date. And to make it worse, she still wasn’t answering him. He didn’t think he’d hit her that hard, but maybe he’d rattled something loose in there. Oh God.

Whatever damage he may have inflicted was apparently reversed by the words “nursing home”, because as soon as they came out of his mouth she took off, babbling at a hundred miles an hour. It was hard to keep up, but he was pretty sure the answer was no, so he nodded sadly. 

But then she mentioned tomorrow. As in Saturday? His favorite day of the week to laze around all day and do nothing? Spent at a nursing home? Huh. 

She rushed on while he was still contemplating, and before he knew it she was holding her steaming bag of Chinese food up to him like an offering—was she asking him back to her place?!

Oliver couldn’t believe his spectacular luck, until he remembered his not-so-nice encounter with his father earlier in the day and the edict about dinner at home. Shit.

And then he really screwed everything up by making it sound like he had a hot date or something, instead of a cold, silent night at home in the presence of his perpetually disappointed parents. 

But there was still Saturday, right? He waited for her nod of agreement to meet up with him, then backed away slowly, obeying his body’s need to take her in just a few seconds longer before the darkness settled over him again and he headed off to face home.


	3. Chapter 3

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

“Worst case scenario,” Caitlin declared. It didn’t sound much like ‘worst case scenario’, because she’d said it around a mouthful of egg roll, but Felicity knew all the same.

It was one of their oldest games.

“Okay. Worst case scenario: It is discovered that I narrowly avoided incarceration for aiding and abetting a felony cyber crime only because I was still barely a minor at the time, plus I agreed to testify against my boyfriend. Once everyone knows, they hate me, I get fired, lose the hot guy, and have to move home to live with my mother and become a cocktail waitress.”

“You do rock platform heels,” Cisco butted in helpfully over Caitlin’s shoulder. Felicity huffed in exasperation and stabbed her chopsticks into the dumplings container. 

“Yes, but you know I can’t carry a tray full of drinks. I’d be a disaster.”

“True dat,” he agreed readily. Caitlin elbowed him in the stomach.

“But what if they don’t find out,” her friend persisted.

“Lynny, but what if they do?” She was whining now, she could hear it in her own voice, but she missed them so much, AND she was eating first-time-around Chinese food already re-heated. 

“Felicity.” Caitlin got up close to the phone screen and looked right into her eyes. “What if they don’t?”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, and Felicity wanted to throw her arms around her friend so badly it made her want to cry.

“Do you like him,” Caitlin asked softly. Felicity sighed.

“I don’t know, I hardly know him! We put a puzzle together for, like, ten minutes, and then I plowed into him in the dark in front of Chinese Takeout. I haven’t had time to form an opinion.” The sum total of EVERYTHING washed over her and she wailed, “I don’t even know his last NAME!!” She plopped the food container on the coffee table and buried her face in her hands. 

“Our poor Felicity,” Cisco crooned suddenly. “She’s so sad. I think she needs music in her life, and I feel a song coming on.” Felicity heard the jangle of out-of-tune guitar strings, and she and Caitlin yelled “No!” at the same time. 

“You know you love it,” he scoffed, pushing in front of Caitlin so that the guitar filled her screen and strumming an awful chord. “All the ladies love my mad skills.”

It was impossible to stay sad with Cisco clowning around, and soon he had them both laughing and singing along. 

When she finally signed off she knew she was ready to face a new day, even on her own. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ

“Ollie?”

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced: He’d almost made it to freedom. He turned around from his place on the eleventh step and waved. 

“Hey, Speedy.”

She dropped her head back dramatically and groaned. 

“How many times...” she didn’t even bother finishing her sentence, knowing nothing would change; she was stuck with the nickname.

“Where are you headed,” he asked, looking his baby sister over. 

“Dinner, duh. Just like you,” she replied with an eye roll. 

“All dressed up?” He was thoroughly confused. 

“It’s Friday. The Queen family dresses for dinner on Fridays.” Oliver mentally face palmed while Thea executed a runway spin and then cocked her head over at him, a hand on her hip. “I know you’ve been trying really hard not to be part of this family for awhile now, but it must be comforting to know that we’ve gone on without you in the same old way just fine.”

With that she turned sharply on one high heel and walked away without a backward glance. 

Shit. 

Dinner was just as frustrating and humiliating as he could have imagined. Between his mother’s disapproving looks and his father completely ignoring him, Oliver couldn’t remember being less happy. Thea, bless her, was silent; she was easily his worst critic, but she must have felt the iciness in the room and decided to hold her tongue; he couldn’t have taken her piling on too. 

Friday dinners weren’t just dressy, they were also multi-course affairs, sometimes with a visiting chef. It could take hours. Oliver fiddled with one of the many forks laid out next to him and contemplated sticking it in his eye, although he doubted he could actually inflict a fatal wound with a piece of flatware. 

“Did you go to the nursing home today, Oliver,” his mother asked, adjusting her napkin in her lap and brushing an invisible crumb from her skirt. Robert’s eyes shifted sharply to him for the first time all night and Oliver absorbed all the simmering rage still in their depths. He ran a hand over his face and tried not to relive their afternoon confrontation again. Somewhere in the depths of himself he felt like crying.

“No, but I’m going tomorrow,” he said wearily. Suddenly a picture of Felicity Smoak, holding a bag of Chinese food and blinking owlishly up at him in silence, flashed behind his closed eyes and he flailed after that feeling again: The feeling of light, and possibility. And peace. 

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The next morning Felicity discovered that she was NOT ready to face a new day, on her own or otherwise. 

She’d forgotten to set the alarm—because, Saturday—and had to choose between a shower and breakfast (she wisely chose the shower.) She almost forgot the nail polish and had to gallop back to get it when she was practically in the parking lot, and then discovered that the cold temperatures and a bit of overnight freezing rain had frozen her car doors shut, so she had to Uber it to the nursing home.

Felicity arrived disheveled, hungry, and mad.

And also, evidently, alone.

The common area was empty, except for the puzzle table. Felicity crossed the room and plopped into a chair with a huff, dumping her purse and coat onto the floor.

The border pieces were more or less collected together, and there was a pile of blue sky pieces in one corner, but so far not one piece had actually been connected to another. Felicity sighed and got to work.

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Oliver was so late it wasn’t even funny. Granted, once he was up he didn’t waste any time getting ready—skipping breakfast—and setting a land speed record driving to the nursing home, but just before he made the turn into the entrance he had a shot of inspiration and drove on to a nearby strip mall, where he picked up two coffees plus flowers for Mary.

He planned to swing by Mary’s room to collect her for the morning, but he didn’t want the coffee to get any colder, so he dropped the flowers off at the nearest nurses station and headed for the common room first. 

The sight of her, eyes on the table and just the tip of her tongue poked out at the corner of her mouth as she concentrated, stopped him in his tracks. He was filled with such a rush of feeling that he had to put a hand on the doorway frame to steady himself. 

Was this what it felt like, to fall head over heels in love? Because it was exhilarating. And terrifying. And, maybe, too early? They’d spent a grand total of about 15 minutes together; how could he know already? But then again, he had never, EVER felt these things. Like THINGS. Family holidays, and marriage, and babies, and...Oliver mentally shook himself like a dog and tried to focus: First things first. 

He pushed off the doorway and walked quietly toward the table, shifting the tray of coffees behind his back as a surprise. 

“Good morning,” he said softly, not wanting to scare her. He proffered the coffee as he took the final step to the table, but she didn’t budge, didn’t even look up.

“Is it still morning? I mean, it was when I got here, but that was so long ago now...” Felicity trailed off as she looked up at him, clearly pissed. 

Oliver had the wind knocked out of him once when he was a kid; it felt like that now, looking at her, angry and disapproving. Had they set a time? He thought back wildly, picturing her face and the Chinese food and...they’d only agreed on Saturday, right? Not an exact time. 

The shock of her words must have been written all over his face because she stilled, and her eyes went wide. He shook his head quickly and forced an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I, um, brought coffee.” He set the tray down gingerly, on the puzzle pieces but off to the side, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

“Oliver,” she said softly, but whatever else she might have said died on her lips as her eyes fell to the coffee. 

“I’ll go get Mary,” he said gently, then turned and left. 

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She sensed him there, across the room, mostly because he was the first human form she’d caught in her peripheral vision in an hour. 

Truth be told, she’d been stoking the mad ever since she got here, even though the terrible start to her day had nothing to do with him. And it felt good to vent by snapping a little. Snark was a precision tool in her hands. 

But then she looked up at him, and her heart stopped. For just a second she’d seen something; an earnestness, an eagerness to please, to please HER, and she had crushed it, with one snippy, throw-away sentence. 

And right before her eyes he shuttered his feelings, put on a charming, self-deprecating smile, and offered her coffee. She treated him like shit and he brought her coffee. 

“Oliver,” she breathed, transfixed by his gift. 

“I’ll go get Mary,” he said. And then he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

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Working together, the three of them were able to get a good portion of the border done by the time a nurse’s aide came to get Mary for lunch. 

Felicity, for one, was glad to get a break. The conversation around the table had been polite, but distant; even Mary seemed subdued. She still felt terrible about her initial words to Oliver, and although he had maintained a pleasant smile throughout the morning and kept up his end of the conversation, he felt closed off to her, almost as if he was protecting himself. 

No wonder, you bully, she thought miserably as she reached for her purse and coat.

“You two are coming to lunch, aren’t you?”

Mary zeroed in on them, pointing a slightly shaky finger from one to the other. Felicity saw Oliver glance her way, but she dropped her eyes to her hands.

“Well, um”, he began, but Mary steamrolled right over him.

“Come on. Eat in the dining room with me. You’ve never seen anything until you’ve watched a bunch of old farts with the shakes trying to eat chili dogs.”

Oliver huffed a laughed and Felicity smiled. 

“Okay,” she shrugged, and they both got up to follow her wheelchair. 

“Just pay at the info desk. I’ll snag us a good table.” Mary waved vaguely toward the lobby as she and the aide hung a right into the dining room. 

Oliver reached for his wallet and Felicity suddenly went cold: If he paid this would be kind of like a date. Not that she wouldn’t consider going on a date with him, but at this point she didn’t think she deserved one.

He seemed to see her concern, because he paused to run a hand through his hair.

“May I,” he asked quietly.

“Um, I...” Felicity took a step closer to him and laid a hand on his arm before hesitantly licking her lips. “Oliver, I’m um, I’m really sorry about what I said to you earlier. I had the world’s worst morning, and I took it out on you and, well, I feel terrible.”

His eyes had fallen to her mouth while she was speaking, which was extremely distracting, considering she was in the middle of an apology. But as soon as she finished his eyes lifted and a slow, genuine smile possessed him. 

“Felicity, it’s nothing.”

She nodded and he blinked once, long and slow, at her. Ah, he has a reset switch, she thought out of nowhere.

“May I buy your lunch,” he asked, with a bashful smile but also kind of low and sexy, and something in her stomach dropped in a very nice way.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied breathlessly. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ

The instant she touched his arm he knew it was going to be alright. It was hard to completely wrap his head around the concept, but it felt like his entire life suddenly rolled out in front of him like a carpet, right past her feet and on out the door into infinity.

He knew he should be listening, but his eyes were stuck on her mouth; the mouth that he understood now he would kiss forever, no question.

The only problem was figuring out how soon forever could start. 

Her apology came to an end, and for just a second he had to remind himself why she was even apologizing in the first place. The smile he gave her—although she would have no way of knowing it yet—contained his whole heart, and he gave it to her without hesitation. 

“Felicity, it’s nothing.”

Then he said: I love you.

It came out as “May I buy your lunch”, but ‘I love you’ is what he meant. As you wish, he thought wryly, following her in to the dining room.

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Oliver was pulled away to help out with an activity just as lunch was ending, so Felicity took Mary back to the common room herself.

“How about those fingernails, missy?” Mary rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

“I’ve got it right here,” Felicity confirmed as she pulled the bottle of pink polish out of her purse with a flourish.

“Whee,” Mary exclaimed, making Felicity laugh. 

She pulled a chair up opposite the wheelchair and took one of the old woman’s hands in hers.

“Ooh, your hands are warm,” Mary sighed.

“Yours are freezing, Miss Mary.”

“I know. Don’t get old, honey.”

Felicity’s head cocked to the side and she chuckled. ”The alternative is dying young, you know. That doesn’t sound so great either.”

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes as she got to work. Then Mary sighed. 

“I don’t know what you said to that boy before lunch, but he was a changed man when you two walked into the dining room.” She shook her head in wonder. “He pushed me down the hall this morning like he was heading for his own execution.”

Felicity felt her face get hot, and shame washed over her. She held her breath for a moment, and then it all burst out of her.

“Oh Mary, I was so mean to him this morning! I was in a terrible mood and I snapped at him, after he’d brought me coffee and everything!”

Mary chuckled. “He brought ME flowers.”

Felicity made a little swooning noise and squeezed the hand she was holding.

“He did?”

Mary winked at her. “That boy may be a little rough around the edges—from a maturity standpoint, I mean—but he’s a keeper, mark my words. And he’s head over heels for you, missy.” Felicity’s hand faltered and she had to wipe away the mess-up with her pinkie. 

They both began to giggle. 

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Oliver cruised back down the hall from calling Bingo in another unit and paused at the doorway to the common room. It was almost an identical moment to this morning, except this time Felicity was bent over Mary’s hand applying nail polish, and the two of them were laughing. 

He took a minute to soak it in, then let himself grin like an idiot before he moved on into the room. 

“Hey ladies.” He’d pulled himself together by that point, smothering the thousand-watt smile and just pulling the corners of his mouth up. 

“Perfect timing,” Felicity declared, “all done and drying.” Mary wiggled her fingers at him, bubblegum pink nails facing up, and Oliver complimented them warmly.

“You two match,” he observed in wonder, and Felicity grinned and flashed a hand up to him in confirmation. Oliver reached for his phone and motioned for her to get close to Mary. She popped up from her chair and turned to crouch down beside the wheelchair, and then both women held their hands out and smiled. 

“Destined to be a classic,” he said softly as he checked it over. 

The afternoon passed swiftly after that. They went back to the puzzle, talking and laughing as if they’d all known each other for years. Mary peppered Felicity with questions, mostly for his benefit, it seemed. She made a pretty good wingman, come to think of it. 

In the middle of the afternoon Mary finally dropped the puzzle piece in her fingers onto the table and huffed a sigh. 

“That’s it. I need a nap. You kids have fun. See you next Saturday.”

Oliver took the hint and jumped up to grab her chair while Felicity said, “Uh,” like she wasn’t aware that next Saturday was already a foregone conclusion. 

Just as he was swinging her chair around Mary swiveled her head to Felicity and caught her eye.

“Don’t tell me you have anything better to do.”

Felicity stared for a moment, then she seemed to deflate with a tiny laugh.

“Nope. See you next week, Miss Mary.”

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She had already gathered up her things and had her coat on by the time Oliver returned. 

“Hey, need to get going,” he asked, a little hesitantly. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked like he was trying not to fidget.

“I really should.” 

Except now that she’d said it she really wished she didn’t have to. 

“Let me walk you out,” he offered.

She was reminded as they walked side by side just how much taller he was. Even in heels she would probably only come to his chin. It was kind of an exhilarating thought.

As they got to the entrance Oliver dipped the shoulder closest to her to get a little closer and said, “It’s still pretty cold out. I could go start your car for you.”

Holy frack! Her car!

Her eyes must have bulged out of her head—but she’d have to worry about what she’d looked like later—she suddenly had bigger problems.

“I totally forgot! I took an Uber today because my car doors were frozen shut. Sorry!”

She fumbled for her phone, totally mortified that she’d forgotten that she hadn’t even driven herself. But then she felt the feather-light touch of Oliver’s fingers at her elbow.

“I’d be happy to take you home,” he said softly. 

“But it might be out of your way,” she argued lamely. He simply shrugged, as if he couldn’t care less how far away she lived. “Well, okay then,” she agreed.

“Okay then,” he echoed, and offered her his arm as they exited onto the slippery parking lot. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

She felt so small and light next to him, tentatively holding his arm at first, and then really hanging on when her feet slipped on a patch of ice. Felicity let out a little squeal that made him chuckle, and he paused momentarily to let her regain her balance before moving on. 

She felt RIGHT, clinging to his arm, her head down to keep an eye out for more ice. Oliver marveled at the grin on his own face, his breath puffing out in front of him in the frigid air. She gave his arm a little squeeze, like she wanted to be sure of him, and his heart soared. 

“MR QUEEN!”

He and Felicity both turned their heads at the call coming from behind them, and Felicity’s feet must have slipped again, because he felt her stiffen beside him and she started to fall backward. Without thinking he whipped the arm she was holding around her back and pulled her upright and into him, and her sliding feet swung her around face-first against his chest.

He heard her little “oof!” of surprise as she stopped against him.

“You alright,” he asked softly, and waited for her to nod up at him before turning his head back to Carol the Activities Director, struggling to pull her coat around her while she inched out into the parking lot.

“Sorry Oliver, I called your name several times, but you must not have heard me.”   
Carol pulled up a couple of feet away and blew out a fog of air.

“No problem. What’s up?”

“We’re a bit short handed tomorrow, and we’ll need someone to set up chairs for the afternoon worship service. Would you be available?”

Sunday too? Oliver heaved a giant sigh, but managed to keep it off his face. 

“Of course,” he replied, turning on the charm. “But Carol, you could’ve just called me.”

The woman smiled, her facing already turning red in the cold. 

“Oh I know, but I also have another favor.” She turned her attention to the blonde—that he had forgotten was still snugged against his chest, because she felt so perfect there—and said, “Felicity, right?”

Felicity nodded. She hadn’t made any move to get out of his hold either, he thought rather happily.

“I just saw Mary in her room, and she mentioned that your job is in computers.“  
Felicity nodded again. Carol took a deep breath and turned on a hundred watt smile.

“We’ve had lots of requests from our residents wanting to learn about the latest technologies. You know, to help them keep up with their grandchildren. Would you be interested in coming in to speak one evening? We have this Wednesday open.”

Felicity paused, and Oliver swore he could feel her heart beating through both their coats, but she nodded again.

“I’d be happy to.”

Carol was already turning around to inch her way back across the lot and out of the cold.

“Wonderful! Wednesday at 6:00. See you then!”

“6 o’clock! I’ll barely get out of work in time to get here,” she breathed, watching Carol’s retreat.

Oliver shrugged and she looked up at him. 

“It’s a nursing home. They eat dinner early and go to bed early.”

Felicity sighed and looked away, and then she must’ve realized that they were still pressed up against each other, because she flattened her palms against his chest and pushed back lightly with an “um, er” under her breath. He relaxed the arm that had been wrapped around her back, but kept his hand lightly under her elbow, just in case. 

God, his chest was suddenly cold without her there. 

Oliver motioned her forward and they continued on toward his car. 

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The parking lot was a sheet of ice. Felicity waffled between letting go of him to exert her independence and grabbing on to him for dear life, but then her foot hit a patch of ice and the decision was basically made for her. 

Oliver chuckled when she screamed like a little girl, and didn’t seem to mind at all that she was suddenly clinging to him. Which was good, because she was REALLY enjoying being this close to him. 

She kept her eyes to the ground, on the lookout for more ice, but in her head it was like an angel was singing his name—Oliver! Oliver! Over and over. Had she actually fallen back there and hit her head and she was just hallucinating all this? She squeezed his arm, to be sure. 

And then it happened.

“MR QUEEN!”

Felicity’s head whipped around to the voice, expecting to find Robert Queen, CEO of Queen Consolidated, the big boss, somewhere in the parking lot. But then her heart seized, because Oliver had turned to look just as quickly...like...HE was Mr Queen.

Holy. Frack. 

Her body stiffened in shock, and in one horror-filled moment she was simultaneously holding on to Oliver-freaking-Queen and falling on her ass. And then, just as quickly, his arm was wrapping around her and she was sliding into the front of him. 

Felicity couldn’t stop the little “oof!” of surprise when she came to rest against his very solid (and nice-smelling) chest. 

“You alright?”

Frackity frack! She glanced up at him and nodded, and he turned back to the voice but he didn’t let go of her. If anything, he gripped her a little tighter. 

The next few moments were a blur as she tried to make sense of this new development and contemplated quitting her job and moving far, far away. Because only SHE could manage to get into a mess like this. 

They were pressed so closely together that she felt his giant sigh and wrenched her attention back to the ongoing conversation in time to hear the woman ask if her name was Felicity. She nodded in answer to all the questions, mostly numb, and before she knew it she was agreeing to come back and talk about—what was it?—technology? On Wednesday. At 6 o’clock?! Frack.

Somehow, on top of everything, Felicity was reminded that she was still squished up against Oliver (freaking Queen!), and she pushed off of him with little, if any, grace and dignity. 

He helped her into the nicest car she had ever seen, and she sat stiff and—except for giving directions—silent for the entire ride. Her apartment building finally came into view, and Oliver pulled the sports car carefully to the curb and cut the engine. 

Felicity panicked: Did he think he was coming up with her? Oh God! But he only dropped his hands into his lap and looked at her with a soft smile. She decided to take the initiative and make her escape.

“Um, thank you very much for the ride,” she said loudly, cringing at her own nervous volume. “Sorry. That was loud. I’m going now.” She fumbled for the door handle, desperate to get away since her brain-to-mouth filter was obviously disengaged. Again.

“Felicity.”

She paused at the sweet sound of her own name and turned back to look at him.

“Hmm?”

He was staring at her with those incredibly blue eyes, the corners of his mouth pulled up.

“Can I see you again?”

She froze, because she wanted desperately to both say yes and fling herself out of the car, and neither option felt like a wise decision. 

“Wednesday,” she finally choked out, as a question, and was rewarded with a full-blown smile from him. 

“Six o’clock,” he confirmed with a wink. “With dinner after. NOT chili dogs.”

Felicity smiled weakly, nodded, and fled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, and it ends in a bit of a cliffhanger, and I am not even a little bit sorry.  
> Happy Thursday!

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Sleep eluded Oliver Saturday night. 

He had a date with Felicity. 

This was, on the surface, very good news. However, in light of his new, budding relationship with this amazing woman, he realized that he needed to take a serious look at his life. 

It no longer seemed enough to just skate along on his looks, his charm, and his family’s money. The old, feckless Oliver—the one his parents constantly disapproved of and he had slowly come to despise—was not good enough for Felicity Smoak.

The potential was in him; he’d always felt it. But potential took work to cultivate, and working was a pain in the ass. 

Oliver sighed and looked at the clock again: 3:30am. He rolled over and readjusted his pillow. 

Step number one was to complete the community service and put that unfortunate drunken decision behind him before Felicity found out and changed her mind about going out with him. How many hours had he completed so far? He frowned into the darkness and tried to count them up, but he couldn’t be sure. On the bright side, all that calculating was finally making him sleepy. 

Carol had to keep a record for the courts. He’d ask her tomorrow, he decided, as he drifted off to sleep. 

————————————————————————

Oliver congratulated himself on making it down to Sunday brunch: The first of what he hoped was a long line of successes. The surprised looks his parents gave him were enough to make his day. 

He haunted the nursing home for most of the afternoon, looking for Carol, but finally decided that she wasn’t working. In between setting up and taking down chairs he and Mary worked on the puzzle (she refused to go to the weekly non-denominational service—claiming to hate the visiting preacher—and informed Oliver that she expected HIM to speak at her funeral, then they’d both laughed like it was the best joke ever). They both agreed that the puzzle wasn’t as much fun without Felicity.

He hunted Thea up when he got home and convinced her to watch a movie with him. They huddled under a blanket side by side on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and watched three in a row. 

———————————————————————

Monday morning he almost rolled over and went back to sleep, but then he remembered his resolve to do better and hauled himself out of bed. His mother raised one elegant eyebrow when she saw him coming down the stairs, showered and dressed, as she was heading out the door on her way to the city. His father rounded the corner behind her, caught sight of him, and glanced down at his watch. Oliver couldn’t decide whether to be pleased or annoyed. 

He lurked—there was no other word for it—outside Carol’s office, checking the time on his phone every two minutes until she showed up for the day at 8:53. She tried to cover her shock at seeing him (as people pleasers do) with a huge smile and offered him a seat when he followed her into her office like a lost puppy.

“I was wondering if you could tell me how many hours of my community service I’ve fulfilled,” he said, hands clasped together between his knees as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. 

“Oh,” she replied, shifting through the papers on her desk until she came up with a bright purple file folder. “Let’s see. I need to add your hours from yesterday that Marrissa signed off on...” there was a lengthy pause while she wrote in the numbers and added them up, and Oliver tried not to fidget. “You have been ordered to fulfill 200 hours of community service, and you have completed...” she dragged the word out as she double-checked her math, “...18.”

“That’s it?” The words flew out before he could stop them. Her eyes flicked up to him and her look said ‘Well what did you expect?’ It was the first time since he’d met her that she didn’t look like she’d just taken first prize at the fair, and he was the prize. Oliver pulled his lips inward and dropped his gaze to his lap. 

“Oliver, we have plenty of work for you to do, even if it’s just sitting with residents and giving them some company. If you put in the full 40-hour weeks, you could be done in just over a month.” Her tone was very comforting, and he glanced back up at her. “And then you can get on with your life,” she finished, a little something in her voice that was meant to be a push. 

Oliver nodded and rose out of his chair. 

“Thanks Carol. I’ll be here all day if you need me.” He dredged up a half-hearted attempt at a charming smile and a sunnier version of hers came out as well. 

“Wonderful. You can help the aides bring everyone down for breakfast.”

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Monday night was Face Time Yoga Night, another Caitlin/Felicity tradition. 

“Where’s Cisco,” Felicity asked to the tv-sized Caitlin rolling out her yoga mat in her corresponding living room.

“He’s auditioning for a Barbershop Quartet tonight,” she answered, and Felicity snorted.

“Do they know he can’t sing?”

“They will in about fifteen minutes.”

Both girls collapsed to their mats in giggles, and then Felicity rolled her head towards the screen and sighed. 

“I can’t keep seeing him, Lynny.”

Caitlin flipped onto her stomach and rested on her elbows.

“Why? Because he’s the boss’s son, and he’s rich, and he acts like he’s crazy about you? I googled him, by the way. He’s also gorgeous. Gor-geous.” She emphasized this by making an “OK” with the fingers of one hand.

Felicity huffed a frustrated sigh. 

“NO. Because he can’t find out about Cooper, and I will definitely let it slip at some point. It’s my thing, you know this.”

“That could happen with anybody. Are you telling me you’re planning to avoid ANY relationship EVER because of something you got caught up in as a kid?”

“That’s my immediate plan, yes.”

Caitlin rolled onto her back and kicked her feet against the floor with a groan that crescendoed into a frustrated yell.

“Felicity! You’re killing me! GO OUT WITH HIM!”

“Alright, alright, stop yelling! I’ll go. But I’m not kissing him.”

———————————————————————

Oliver Queen, she decided two nights later, was a phenomenal kisser.


	6. Chapter 6

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It was 4:47pm Wednesday afternoon and the clock was ticking. Felicity still had two open tickets that she needed to resolve before she could log out. She would need 45 minutes to get to the nursing home, and she still didn’t have anything planned for her technology presentation. Frack.

She was skirting through the copy room as a shortcut to get to her next proverbial fire when she heard it: Muffled sobs coming from the supply closet. The pragmatic part of her wanted to keep going, but the soft squishy part of her wouldn’t hear of it. She groaned internally but tiptoed to the door.

“Hello,” she called softly, tapping the door with her knuckle. “You okay in there?”

“Don’t come in,” a voice tearfully demanded. A male voice, one that she recognized.

She turned the knob anyway and gently pushed it open, although it would only go so far before it caught against the closet’s occupant.

“Curtis?”

“Oh, hey Felicity.” Curtis, sitting scrunched up on the floor, sniffed and tried to shift himself to the side in case she wanted to come in. “Is the copier out of paper?”

He started to reach up above and behind where his back rested against a set of wobbly metal shelves, and Felicity had a sudden, nightmarish vision of all those reams of paper falling onto his head. She threw out a hand to stop him.

“No! Just checking on you. Everything okay?”

He seemed surprised that she’d seen right through his attempt at redirection, and then his face crumpled up into tears again.

“I’ve been working on this pitch to the Board for QC to offer technology outreach programs to underserved communities, you know, after hours, and it’s taken so much of my time that my boyfriend and I had a huge fight over it this morning and I think he moved out this afternoon.” He took a huge breath, and Felicity had to admit that his lung capacity was impressive. 

“To top it all off,” he continued miserably, “I have to give my presentation tomorrow and I’m so nervous I don’t think I can do it.”

Felicity grabbed a box of tissues off a shelf above him and passed them down. She regarded him for a moment as he pulled himself together: Curtis was a fairly new hire—newer than her, even—and they had only spoken once or twice, but he had always been super nice and friendly. 

She suddenly had a flash of inspiration. She stuck a hand out to him and gave him her sunniest smile. 

“Curtis, you’re coming with me.”

———————————————————————

“So I’m gonna give my presentation...”

“...to the folks at the nursing home. For practice. Yes.” Felicity’s grin was a mile wide. “It’s perfect!”

She was already navigating through rush hour traffic, Curtis a shotgun-riding prisoner in her Mini Cooper, so there wasn’t much he could do about it at this point anyway. He looked a little ridiculous, stuffed into her tiny car with his presentation materials piled in his lap. But he’d stopped crying, which was a plus. 

This might be her best plan to date, she thought smugly. It solved the problem of the presentation that she had been too busy to prepare for, and her new buddy Curtis would be the perfect buffer for her dinner date with Oliver. After all, she was his ride, so he’d have to come eat with them, right? 

Part of her felt like she was playing a dirty trick on Oliver by side-stepping the date, but a bigger, more scaredy cat part of her was too worried about guarding her secret. And her heart. 

Anyway, right now she needed to focus on Curtis. 

“They’re going to love you! Just make sure you talk slow, and be nice and loud. Good practice for your presentation tomorrow, too,” she added with a tilt of her head toward him, her eyes not leaving the road. “Are you warm enough, Curtis? Want me to turn the heat up?”

“No Felicity, it’s like, 106 degrees in here.” He clutched after one of the myriad pieces of tech that was threatening to slide off his lap. 

“Oh, that’s just your nerves. You’re fine.”

They drove in silence for a few more minutes, and then Felicity took a big breath.

“There’s something else I have to tell you about tonight.” When Curtis didn’t answer she glanced his way.

He was staring straight at her, and he looked pissed.

“I don’t know you very well, but I don’t think I like you.”

She flipped a hand at him. “Nonsense. I’m a delight.” He huffed in frustration and she rolled on.

“Anywho, there’s somebody else you should know about before we get there. Related to QC. Who’s going to be there.” She wasn’t setting this up very well, and Curtis let her know with another huff. “It’s Oliver Queen. He’ll be there tonight.”

“Oliver...like the boss’s son, Oliver Queen?” Felicity nodded. His voice rose almost an octave. “Is this about my presentation?!”

“No! He has no idea you’re coming. It’s supposed to be my presentation anyway...oops.” It had just slipped out; she’d been hoping to gloss over that part of it.

“From the beginning, please.”

Felicity sighed and launched into the story (editing out her near-felony, of course); they were pulling into the parking lot before she was finished. She put the car in park and they stared at each other for a long moment.

“Seek help,” was all he said. 

“You sound like my friend Caitlin,” she sighed, as they climbed out of the car and trudged through the bitter cold. 

She spotted Oliver as soon as they entered the common room. He was leaning back against the far wall, sleeves rolled up and his arms crossed. (How had she never noticed how big his arms were before?!)

When he spotted her he shifted his weight off the wall, a smile forming. But then he must have caught sight of long tall Curtis, juggling tech as he followed behind her, because his smile fell away and his brows pinched together. 

Felicity plastered on a smile and crossed the room to him. This was already going so badly. Oh God.

“Um, hi,” she said brightly as they met in the middle of the room. “Oliver, this is Curtis...um,” she trailed off with pink cheeks, but Curtis stepped forward to fill in the gap.

“Holt. Curtis Holt. Nice to meet you, Mr Oliver Queen.” He stuck out a hand, but instead of shaking Oliver’s he handed him a wireless router. Oliver glanced down at it, a surprised smile flashing over his face, and then he shrugged and took it with a chuckled “Okay” under his breath. Curtis hadn’t even noticed what he’d done.

“There’s a table over here for your stuff.” Oliver led the way, setting the router down gingerly before turning back to Felicity. Curtis was already busy offloading his supplies, so she stepped aside with him when he reached out for her elbow.

“What’s going on?” He was smiling, but also gritting his words out through his teeth, and Felicity swallowed hard.

“Well, it’s a long story, kind of, but he was in the closet and I had this idea that I could help him out, I mean, not out of the closet—well, actually I did help him out of the closet—but not out of the CLOSET closet, I’m pretty sure he’s been there done that, I—“ Oliver squeezed her elbow gently and she stopped.

“Fe-li-city.”

“Sorry. Curtis is going to do the technology presentation tonight as practice for a pitch he’s making to the QC Board tomorrow.”

Oliver sighed and nodded his head. “Okay then.”

He turned back to see if he could be of more help, and Felicity stared after him in wonder. 

She’d been on the world’s longest ramble, but all he had to do was squeeze her arm and she’d...stopped. And then made complete sense. Huh. Apparently SHE had a reset switch too.

It wasn’t a large group that had assembled for the talk, but at least everyone who was there looked like they wanted to be. Mary was parked in the middle of the front row, and at the last minute Felicity spotted her and dashed over to give her a hug. 

She returned to a space off to the side that Oliver was already occupying, and Carol had just come forward to get things started when Curtis stepped to her side and leaned down.

“I forgot! I want to show them the latest in smartphone technology. What’cha got?”

“Here.” Felicity took her phone out of her coat pocket and handed it to him. Curtis glanced down at it.

“Ooh, sweet!” He returned to his spot just as Carol was introducing him.

Felicity took a deep breath. Here we go, she thought.

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Oliver set the room up and then took himself out of the way to wait. He counted back in his head and realized he’d been at the nursing home five days in a row, and it was only Wednesday. He’d begun keeping track of his hours on his phone, just so he wouldn’t have to bug Carol to death for them.

She and the rest of the staff had grown used to his daily presence, and he was more than happy to no longer be a novelty around here. Mary hadn’t said a word about how much he’d been around; he got the weird feeling she’d already known that he would get his shit together and finally start making an effort. 

The closer it got to six o’clock, the more anxious he became. They still hadn’t exchanged numbers, although one well-placed smile in HR would get that for him, probably. The trouble would be explaining to Felicity how he got it without making himself look like a perv.

He’d contented himself with just looking forward to Wednesday, and vowed to get her number by the end of the evening. 

When Felicity finally turned the corner into the common room with only a couple of minutes to spare, Oliver couldn’t stop his smile at seeing her. But he pulled up short when he realized she hadn’t come alone. Who was this guy? 

She had a huge, somewhat crazed, smile on her face, which did nothing to lessen his concern, but she was quick to introduce him, even if she didn’t seem to know his last name. 

This guy—Curtis?—was a bit of an oddball, but Oliver couldn’t help chuckling at being given a router instead of a handshake. He really did seem harmless, but an explanation of his presence would be nice.

Felicity came with him willingly when he touched her, but she was fifty shades of nervous, if her monumental babble was anything to go by. He felt her spiraling and squeezed her elbow, then tried out her name the way he’d whispered it to himself in the dark of night a couple of times. It seemed to do the trick, but it had also done some serious things to him, and he had to step away from her before someone noticed the very obvious affect she’d had on him. 

No one in the room seemed really sure what was going to come out of Curtis’s mouth—including Curtis—but after a supersonic start that Felicity managed to rein in with a couple of cryptic hand signals, everyone relaxed and Oliver really began to listen and enjoy his presentation. 

His audience was a little quiet, but several people asked pertinent questions, and Curtis answered every one. The concept he was proposing, for QC to make technology accessible to low-income and at-risk youth and senior citizens, was intriguing. Even in a facility as nice as this one the equipment was older, and there were certainly some residents who would benefit from having access to a computer that could put them in touch with long-distance relatives, for instance.

The wheels in his mind were turning over the possibilities as Curtis concluded his talk and Felicity glanced up at him with a huge smile on her face. Then Carol stood back up to ask if anyone would like to see any of the devices up close, and Felicity left his side to help pass out equipment and work one-on-one with the residents.

Suddenly everyone in the room was animated: Talking, laughing, asking questions. Oliver watched Curtis and Felicity work with the crowd, smiling and helpful, and was inspired to get his phone out and capture a few pictures of them at work. 

It was past seven when they finally called it a night. Curtis was beaming from ear to ear, his arms once again full of tech, and Felicity was practically bouncing on her toes in excitement. 

“Curtis, that was amazing,” Oliver declared, clapping him on the shoulder. “Can I help you carry anything to your car?”

He watched the two of them exchange a look, and suddenly Felicity wouldn’t meet his eye.

“I, um, caught a ride with Felicity, so...” Curtis mumbled, suddenly the gawky, geeky guy again. 

Oliver felt his expression change as pieces began to fall into place, and he wrestled to cover his hurt and keep his smile neutral.  
After all the effort he’d made this week, and the anticipation he’d endured in order to get some time alone with her, Felicity had brought a buffer. On their first date. 

Oh hell no.

“Curtis, let me walk you out.”

Felicity’s eyes went wide as he steered the taller man with a hand on his shoulder, murmuring an “excuse us” to her as he passed with a look that said ‘wait right here’ and glued her to the spot. He pulled out his phone and had an Uber ordered before they hit the lobby. Oliver thanked Curtis again and wished him luck on the presentation, and then turned on his heel and strode back to the common room. 

Felicity hadn’t moved from her spot, still wide-eyed with shock, and she made a little “eep!” noise when he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him to the far side of the room and out the exit door to the three-season sunroom that was currently out of season and easily twenty degrees colder than the rest of the building.

“Oliver,” she said breathlessly as he stopped in the middle of the dark room and pulled her against him.

“Felicity,” he said in a growly whisper, and she looked up at him and blinked. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh. Okay,” she agreed in a whisper of her own.

He cupped her face in his hands and moved in, and after the first few seconds she pushed up on her toes to get closer, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt on either side of his waist to steady herself and making him growl with pleasure as he deepened the kiss.

By the time they finally pulled apart her hands had moved up to the back of his head, scratching lightly through his hair, and his had drifted decidedly south. She hummed with pleasure when he let them slide over her ass before bringing them up to rest possessively at her waist. She shivered against him, but whether it was from the cold or the kiss, he couldn’t tell. 

“More of this, or dinner,” he asked huskily, looking very intently into her eyes.

“Yes please,” she answered immediately with a grin, and he huffed a laugh. 

“Dinner first then,” he decided with a smile, taking her hand and leading the way. 


	7. Chapter 7

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They decided to leave Felicity’s car in the parking lot and find someplace close by to eat. Oliver rattled off restaurant choices as they cruised the strip of businesses just past the nursing home, and Felicity couldn’t stop a moan of longing when he mentioned Big Belly Burger; he pulled into the parking lot without seeking any additional approval. 

Felicity was still a little shell shocked from that kiss. She slipped her hand into his as they walked into the restaurant and he gave it a little squeeze, but otherwise acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world. They chose a booth in the back and rid themselves of their heavy coats, hats, and gloves before making eye contact again. 

But then: Oh wow. If she thought she needed confirmation of his feelings for her, that need was erased when she saw the slow, knowing smile he was giving her from across the table. Felicity swallowed. 

“So. That happened,” she blurted, her face turning pink as soon as she’d said it. 

Oliver grinned. “Yes it did.” He glanced down at his hands splayed out on the table in front of him and then back up at her. “And I would very much like it to happen again.”

Drinks arrived—milkshakes and ice waters—and they concentrated on those in silence for a moment, but then curiosity got the best of Felicity. She bit her lip, but pushed on and spoke up.

“You’ve known all along that I work for your family’s company. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Oliver’s gaze dropped to the table and he seemed to collect his thoughts before shrugging. 

“I didn’t think it was important. That company isn’t me.” His gaze found hers. “I wanted you to get to know me.”

Felicity nodded slowly, a tiny smile on her face. “So the nursing home is, like, an internship?”

A look she couldn’t decipher crossed his face and he opened his mouth to answer, but the food arrived at the same moment and he didn’t get out more than a mumbled “Something like that” before they dove into their burgers and onion rings. 

“I thought Curtis’s presentation was really great,” Oliver said around a mouthful of onion ring and they both laughed at the way he sounded. They spent the rest of dinner talking about his idea and how it could be applied at the nursing home. 

He was paying the check before they got back on the subject of them.

“Can I come by work and take you to lunch tomorrow,” he asked, a gleam in his eye as he stuffed his change back in his wallet. Felicity sighed.

“I’ll be offsite tomorrow, in training.”

“Oh. Well at least let me get your number.” Felicity nodded eagerly and rummaged into her coat pocket as he added, “I can’t believe I haven’t asked for it yet.” 

Her heart stopped for a second when she discovered both her pockets empty, and then the realization hit her.

“Frack! I lent my phone to Curtis and forgot to get it back!” Oliver’s face fell.

“I can call him. Do you know his number?” 

She shook her head no with a frown. “I barely know him. Frack,” she said again, softly, and despite the seriousness of the situation Oliver had to hide a smile at her adorable swear. 

Felicity shook herself out of her bad mood and dragged her purse into her lap.

“I still have my work-issued phone.” They exchanged numbers and she insisted on taking a quick picture of him to add to her contacts. She took three before she was satisfied, and by the last one he was laughing.

“That wasn’t exactly quick,” Oliver admonished playfully as they put on their coats. He took her hand as they walked out, and kept it in his for the entire drive back.

He pulled up next to her car and held his hand out for her keys so he could hop out to start it and let it warm up. Then he kissed her breathless while they waited. 

They were both panting when she finally pulled away with a giggle, waving a hand at the fogged up windshield and windows. 

“Um,” she grinned, his hands bracketing her face and their foreheads touching. He licked his lips and sighed. “You may have to sit here all night before you’re able to see to drive home,” she whispered with a laugh.

“It will be totally worth it,” he whispered back, capturing her mouth again and dropping his hands to push inside her unzipped coat. 

“My car must be warm by now,” she pressed, trying not to think about where her gas gauge was sitting when she’d gotten here. He nodded against her, not letting up, and before she could process it she’d pushed toward him and twisted until her butt was on the console between their seats and her upper body was squeezed between his chest and the steering wheel. 

He moaned his approval at her move, but eventually pulled back himself to catch his breath, his hands once again in her hair.

“Felicity,” he groaned, and she hummed in response, busy attacking his throat with kisses. “This is fantastic, but I do not want our first time to be in my car.”

“No?” She had never taken charge in this kind of situation before (not that there had been a lot of these “situations” at this point in her life), and she was really REALLY enjoying the experience.

“No,” he huffed a laugh, and Felicity came up for air with a grin. She faked a pout and made a frustrated noise, but wiggled her way back into her seat with a little huff of her own. She was very pleased to see that he was shifting in his seat with a slightly pained expression. She bit her lip playfully and he groaned. 

“Be gone, woman, or it will be in this car.” She laughed, delighted, and he grinned at her.

“G’night,” she said softly, and couldn’t resist running a hand along his jaw even as she opened the door and climbed out of the car. 

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Oliver drove home in a haze of endorphins, swimming in Felicity’s vanilla and peppermint scent left behind on his chest. He could still feel the ghost of her hand against his jaw line, and the sensation made him grind his teeth in need. 

They hadn’t set another date, besides their Saturday thing with Mary, and he was already desperate to see her again. He played their dinner back over in his head to distract his body, but groaned in embarrassment when he remembered her asking about the nursing home again.

Internship? C’mon, Oliver. He groaned out loud at the stupidity of it all, and as usual ended up arguing with himself about whether he should just come clean, or try to keep it secret until he could finish his time there and move on with his life. 

The fear that she might look at him differently if she knew the truth hit him in the gut, and he had to grip the steering wheel with both hands until it faded. 

But it wouldn’t go away. 

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FBI agent John Diggle was just standing up and grabbing his jacket to head home when his desk phone rang. He watched the orange light blink and considered letting it go to voicemail; he’d stayed after hours to finish up some paperwork, and he really wanted to get home to his wife. 

At the last minute he sighed and snatched up the receiver. If anyone else had still been in the room they would’ve seen Agent Diggle’s face morph from mild annoyance to a frown of concern while he listened. 

John thanked the caller and hung up, then stood for a moment in thought, a hand running over his head absently. He sat back down at his computer and searched through his files until he found what he was looking for. 

He dialed the number using his cell, counting the rings until voicemail picked up. Damn.

“Felicity, this is Agent Diggle. John. Give me a call as soon as you get this message. It’s about—it’s important. Thanks.”

He stowed his phone but didn’t leave his desk for several more minutes. 

Damn.


	8. Chapter 8

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Thursday was the longest day in the history of long days. Oliver sat with Mary for most of it, poking through puzzle pieces on auto-pilot while she glowered at him. 

She finally snapped.

“Gracious sakes, call her already! That expression of yours is driving me mad.”

Oliver frowned at her, but it was half-hearted.

“Tell me you have a date with her tomorrow, at least,” she continued, exasperated. His frown didn’t change, and she threw up her hands. 

He seemed to take the not-so-subtle hint, because he fished his phone out of his pocket and started typing.

“If I knew how to work one of those things I’d do it myself,” Mary muttered darkly, her chin resting on the back of one hand as she watched him. 

His phone chimed back right away, and Mary’s eyes lit up as she watched him read the message, his face softening immediately.

“Well,” she pushed curiously, after he’d texted back and forth a couple more times. 

“We’re going to have dinner tomorrow night,” he said, his eyes flicking up to hers and a smile forming as he put his phone down. 

“Now see? Was that so hard?” She teased, but it was clear she was very pleased.

A few minutes later Mary cleared her throat, and Oliver glanced at her curiously.

“Have you, ah, told Felicity about this—“ she waved one hand around vaguely—“arrangement of yours?” 

Oliver grimaced, because he knew she meant the community service. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“Not...exactly,” he admitted with a sigh. He was preparing for a good telling off, but when she remained silent he risked a look at her. Mary was staring at him with narrowed eyes, one finger—with a bubblegum pink fingernail—pointed at his chest. 

“She won’t hear it from me, but she’d better hear it from you.”

Oliver stared at her for a long moment; Mary didn’t even blink. He finally nodded agreement, but he was not happy about it. 

————————————————————————

Hours later Oliver was pulling into his bay of the garage when he remembered his standing commitment to Friday night dinners with his family and cursed under his breath. He sat in the silence of his car and weighed his options for several minutes, but ultimately decided that the current upward momentum in his relationship with his parents and Thea was too important to wreck by skipping out on another dinner. 

He blew out a huge breath to steady his nerves and sent Felicity another text.

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Felicity swallowed a groan of frustration, her hands curling into fists in her lap. The company-mandated Sexual Harassment Training couldn’t have come at a less convenient time. Did a computer in HR randomly generate employee names for these things? Because only she could be unlucky enough to get stuck with that ass Tyler from Sales, whose first comment when she walked into the room was a slimy “Sexual Harassment, huh? I think I’m gonna ace this class”. 

And whose idea was it to role play harassment situations anyway? Like she needed to relive almost every encounter she’d ever had with a member of the opposite sex at work. 

She was going to find the person in charge of this dumpster fire and erase their identity.

On top of dealing with Fuckwit Tyler, Felicity had reached for her personal cell phone at least 52 times throughout the day, only to be reminded that it was in the possession of a co-worker she hardly knew.

The only bright spot in her day was the mid-afternoon text she got from Oliver, asking her to dinner Friday night. Just thinking about seeing him again made her tingle in anticipation, and she texted back a yes immediately. 

Relieved to be home at the end of a long and frustrating day, Felicity was just turning the key in the lock to her front door when she heard her phone chime again. 

O: Slight change of plans for tomorrow night. Feel like dressing up?

Felicity grinned to herself. So this was going to be like a date, date? Fancy sounded fun.

F: I’d love to. Where are we going?

There was a lengthy pause, so she took the time to remove her coat and kick her shoes off. When he still hadn’t replied, she headed toward her bedroom to change, tossing her phone on the bed as she passed. 

Felicity was dressed in her pjs by the time it chimed again, and she threw herself onto her bed as she scooped the phone up in her hands, coming to rest on her stomach and propped on her elbows. 

O: Well, actually it’s where YOU would be going. Which is to my house. 

Felicity gulped a breath: If he’d left the long pause between texts for dramatic effect, it really hadn’t been necessary. She sat up on her bed, typing and erasing multiple replies before giving in and dialing his number. 

“Hi.” He sounded a little surprised.

“Hi yourself. Oliver, don’t you think it’s a little early for me to be meeting your parents?”

“Well, um, yes, a little. It’s just...Friday night dinners are kind of a thing around here, and I’m expected to show up, but I really want to see you as well, so I, uh, wondered if you’d like to be my, my guest.”

“You sound funny. Are you in your car?”

“Yes.”

“YOU WERE TEXTING AND DRIVING?!”

“What? No, Felicity, I’m sitting in my car, in the garage.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

There was a pause.

“That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“Sitting in your garage, talking to me on the phone.”

“You called me, to be fair.” She chuckled, conceding his point.

“So, what do you think? About dinner.”

Felicity sighed.

“Oliver, you’re asking me to have dinner—fancy dinner, apparently—with your parents, who happen to own the company I work for. That’s big.”

“And Thea,” he added quickly. “I’d really like you to meet my sister.”

“Ugh. Okay. But if it’s super weird or terrible or I do something embarrassing—“

“I promise to get you out of there and take you to Big Belly and then make out with you in my car.”

Felicity laughed. 

“Well maybe we should do some of all of that.”

Oliver’s sexy growl in response curled her toes. 

————————————————————————

“Then he did WHAT now?” Caitlin was sitting cross-legged in front of her coffee table with a bowl of salad in front her. 

“He invited me to DINNER with his FAMILY at the Queen MANSION.” Felicity had to yell because she was on all fours, her head buried in her closet and her backside in the air, hunting for the mate to the shoe clutched in her left fist. 

She cried out in triumph, crawling backwards out of the closet with the matching shoe in her right hand. 

“Ha ha! These are the shoes. What do you think?” She held them up to the phone screen for her friend to inspect.

“Cute,” Caitlin decided around a mouthful of salad. “Isn’t it a little early to be meeting his parents?”

“See?! That’s what I said. But he promised we wouldn’t have to stay if it got weird.”

Cisco, previously absent from their conversation, suddenly popped up behind Caitlin’s shoulder. 

“Felicity Smoak meeting her gorgeous boyfriend’s very rich parents in a formal setting? It’s gonna get weird.” He reached over Caitlin’s shoulder to snag a crouton and then disappeared. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she called after him, unconvincingly.

Frack. 

————————————————————————

Felicity made a beeline for Curtis’s desk first thing Friday. It was frustratingly empty.

She haunted it all morning, every chance she got, but by lunchtime it was obvious that he wasn’t going to show. Their supervisor finally confirmed that Curtis had taken a personal day. 

Despite the event looming in her immediate future—or maybe because of it—the day flew by, and before she knew it co-workers around her were heading for home. She was just logging out herself, the butterflies beginning to take flight in her stomach, when her phone rang.

“Hey.”

“Hi there,” he said, all soft and full of promise. “It’s supposed to start snowing this evening. Do you want me to come get you?”

Felicity pictured Oliver in his crazy-expensive sports car sliding through the snow on the way to rescue her and snorted. 

“I’ll be fine, Oliver.”

“Are you sure?”

“I used to live in Boston. I can handle it.”

As soon as she said it she panicked: Too much information, Felicity!

“Boston, huh? For school?”

“Uh, yep. Hey, I better get going. See you soon.”

Felicity hung up with a cringe. It was probably a world record for abruptly ending a call, but she’d felt a babble coming on, and enough damage had already been done during that conversation.

An hour later she was putting the final touches on her makeup. She and Caitlin had agreed on the red dress, hair down, contacts. This was a Meet The Parents affair, after all. Her phone, hanging out on the edge of the sink, chimed with a text.

O: It might actually get pretty bad out. Bring your overnight stuff just in case. 

O: ;)

Winky face? Oh. My. God. Not only did Oliver want her to meet his family after only one date, he thought they were going to have sex for the first time in his parents’ house?! A tiny part of her rationalized that at least it wasn’t going to be in his (very swanky) car, but a bigger part of her had to resist the urge to call off the whole thing.

She took a couple of fortifying breaths and made herself think rationally. Oliver had never made her feel uncomfortable up to this point; it was unlikely he would suddenly change into a beast in his own home with his whole family present. 

And if he did, well, at least she’d find out early, before her heart got any more tangled up in this relationship. 

She threw a bag together and headed out, grabbing her snow boots at the last minute to throw in the car.

Just in case. 

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Oliver was fiddling with the buttons on his sport coat as he came down the stairs and almost missed Thea passing through the hallway below. She was dressed in yoga pants, a tee shirt, and had bare feet—which was not smart, because the mansion was always freezing in winter.

“Hey,” he said, clearly perplexed. “What are you doing?” 

“Heading to the kitchen. You’re not the boss of me.” It was her favorite tagline. 

“Why aren’t you dressed up?”

She stopped and finally looked at him, frozen in uncertainty on the stairs. 

“Why are you? Mom’s got an Arts Gala thingy, and dad’s in Hong Kong. We’re on our own tonight.”

Oliver swore under his breath. Figures. He checked his phone: Too late to change the plans yet another time; Felicity would be well on her way by now. 

“Okay, well, I have a date coming over, and I’d really like you to meet her. How ‘bout we order pizza or something?”

Thea crossed her arms and gave him a cocky smile.

“Who are you and what have you done with Ollie Queen?” He glared at her and she laughed in delight. 

“Nice.”

“No really, I think it’s great. If you were willing to subject her to mom and dad then she must be something special.”

His face softened. 

“She is, Speedy. Why don’t you call in an order. And pick out a movie.”

Oliver paced the foyer until he saw headlights cutting through the flurry of snowflakes out on the driveway. He threw on his coat and stepped outside just as she pulled up under the covered porch. 

“You can leave it there,” he called. “Should keep the snow off of it tonight.”

Felicity smiled at him, maybe a little uncertainly. The winky face text was definitely too much, he admonished himself.  
She had at least brought an overnight bag, which was good; it was really coming down already. 

He gave her his arm, just because, and led her into the house out of the cold. She was beautiful in her long wool coat, breathtaking out of it.

“Oh wow,” he said before he could help himself, and then grinned at her pretty blush.

Just then the doorbell rang. Felicity glanced sidelong at him.

“Is this a dinner party,” she hissed. Oliver laid a hand on her arm in reassurance as he stepped to the door. He paid and collected the pizza (three boxes, really Thea?), then turned to meet Felicity’s look of disbelief. He could practically read her thoughts: She’d gotten dressed up for PIZZA?

Oliver huffed a self-conscious laugh and glanced at the floor.

“So...plans changed. Again. It turns out neither of my parents are here, so it’ll just be you, me, Thea, and...” he raised the boxes of pies slightly. Felicity’s face suddenly relaxed into a relieved smile. 

“Oh thank God,” she breathed, looping her arm through his and letting him lead the way.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a SAGA this chapter became. I wrote the ending first, loved it, stewed for a bit about the rest, wrote two Season 6 fics, stewed some more, and then created my longest chapter ever.  
> A note about Thea: She’s still the sassy, savvy girl we know and love, but she’s also still a little girl in a sense, because in this story she didn’t lose half her family and she gets to grow up in the typical way. I hope you like her.  
> PS The ending that I wrote first and loved so much? It’s now the opening of Chapter 10. And so it goes.

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

It was really coming down; big fluffy flakes that pelted the windshield soundlessly as Felicity drove the final few miles to the Queen (gulp!) Mansion. In the early darkness of winter she could easily imagine she was traveling through hyperspace, sans Chewie.

Despite her bravado on the phone to Oliver, these winter driving conditions were a bit nerve-wracking; she was relieved to finally pull up under the porch and see Oliver waiting for her. He took her overnight bag for her, and then gave her his arm; Felicity felt like a Disney princess. “Queen” a little voice corrected in her head, but she furiously dismissed it.

The pizza, well, the pizza was a surprise, but a very pleasant one. All the anxiety of the past couple of hours over meeting Oliver’s family, driving in the snow, and any potential hook up that he might be expecting dissipated with the steam rising off those beautiful boxes that Oliver offered up to her like treasure. 

He led her back through the house into a less fancy hallway that emptied into a giant kitchen. Oliver set the boxes on the enormous island and unwound her hand from his arm, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss. 

“I’m going to check up on my sister. Make yourself at home.” He winked at her and she smiled. Just as he was passing through the doorway he caught himself and spun around.

“Oh! The wine fridge is in the island, if you want to pick something out.” He grinned and disappeared. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Oliver checked the tv room and found his sister rummaging through one of the built-ins for DVDs. 

“Hey Speedy. She’s here, and so’s the pizza. Come eat.”

Thea sat back to look at him and tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“Okay, we’re going to have to Netflix it. Everything in here is either a kid’s show or just sucks.”

Oliver blinked several times. “Did you hear what I said? It’s time to eat.”

Thea climbed to her feet with a huff. “I heard you. Geez.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she mouthed silently as she brushed by him, and Oliver rolled his eyes. They moved down the hall together, but he let her go first into the kitchen, which appeared to be empty. 

“Um,” he said softly, pulling his lips in and frowning in confusion.

“Your girl seems to be missing, Ollie,” Thea announced, arms crossed and a hip jutted out. 

Just then the top of a blonde head and a beautiful pair of wide blue eyes appeared on the far side of the island, and Thea laughed delightedly. 

“There you are,” Oliver grinned, as Felicity slowly rose to her full height with pink cheeks and a guilty expression. 

“Hi. Sorry. Browsing. Wine fridge. Yum.”

Thea laughed again at the high speed word salad and took a seat on the closest bar stool, reaching out at the same time to swing one of the pizza boxes around. 

“Felicity, my sister Thea. Thea, Felicity Smoak.” Oliver made the introductions while rummaging for plates and wine glasses. He snagged a soda out of the big fridge for Thea, ignoring her pout at not being offered wine. 

When everything was laid out on the counter he dropped his hands on his hips and leveled a look at his sister. 

“Three pizzas? Really?” Felicity grinned at his side and Thea blushed prettily. 

“I thought I should get a variety, you know, because you have a guest.” She batted her eyelashes and Oliver’s mock frown dissolved. A glance at Felicity caught her grinning up at him too. 

A few bites later Thea spoke up around a mouthful of pizza. “Besides, we’re in a snowstorm. We might be trapped here for DAYS.” 

Beside him he heard Felicity choke a little bit. He reached over and patted her back, but she nodded her reassurance while practically gulping her wine. 

The girls spent the meal bonding over their favorite tv shows while Oliver mostly looked on. Felicity had remained standing at his side on the far side of the island from Thea, and as she became more comfortable in her surroundings she relaxed into the counter, eventually leaning forward on her elbows. She even kicked off her heels, standing on one bare foot with the other resting on top of it. The sight of her, dressed to the nines, barefoot and snarfing pizza made him swallow hard. 

God but she was gorgeous. 

At some point his gaze lifted from the conversation to the wall of windows out the kitchen window: The world had gone completely white. 

When they’d stuffed themselves silly they worked together to consolidate the pizza and put everything away. Thea bounced out of the room to hit the bathroom before movie time and Oliver looked down at his diminutive date.

“Wanna change clothes for movie time,” he asked softly. Felicity looked up at him and blinked once, but then nodded, so he led the way back to the front of the house and her overnight bag, still lying in the foyer. 

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As Oliver left the kitchen to find his sister, Felicity swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut long enough to give herself a little pep talk about relaxing and not babbling and generally not making a fool of herself, but even her pep talk became a ramble so she gave up and decided to investigate the wine fridge. 

She was hip-deep in high end wine choices when she heard a young woman’s voice and realized the Queen siblings thought she had disappeared. A detached part of her brain pondered how cute it was that his sister referred to him as “Ollie”—although she couldn’t see herself ever using the nickname herself—but the rest of her was mortified at being caught crouching in a rather nice dress in front of so much booze. 

There was no good way to get up gracefully at this point, so she peeked her head up above the counter sheepishly. 

“There you are,” Oliver grinned, his features so soft and happy she suddenly wanted to jump him right there. The thought made her blush furiously, and she mumbled something faintly resembling English while she recovered her senses. 

Thea was sweet and funny, and Felicity was touched that she was thinking of her when she’d ordered the pizza, even if Oliver was kind of annoyed. They dug in, chewing in silence, and Felicity took a moment to indulge a fantasy of being trapped here in a blizzard and eating cold pizza for breakfast with Oliver. Naked. Her imaginings were really beginning to take a serious turn when Thea piped up.

“Besides, we’re in a snowstorm. We might be stuck here for DAYS.”

Felicity choked, suddenly certain that she had accidentally moaned or something and given away her naughty thoughts, but as Oliver patted her back sweetly she decided that neither of them looked scandalized, so everything had probably stayed inside her head. Probably. 

She took an extra big swig of wine for fortification, just in case. 

As the meal went on Felicity relaxed; she and Thea had a lot in common, and were soon chattering on like old friends. Oliver was mostly silent, and every once in awhile she’d catch him gazing at her in a way that made her all warm and buzzy. 

She was pretty sure that wasn’t just the wine.

When everything was put away Oliver offered to let her change before they watched a movie. She nodded, but she was conflicted. She didn’t really want to wear a form fitting dress all evening when they should be relaxing, but she hadn’t exactly brought a trunkful of clothes with her either; she had her pjs and an outfit for tomorrow. 

Felicity worked the problem in her head on the walk back through the house, and by the time he had dropped her off at the door leading to a guest bedroom she had decided to put her pjs on but leave her bra and underwear on as well. Loungewear. Easy peasy. 

She changed quickly and even swapped out her contacts for glasses, then slipped back out the door into the hallway where Oliver was waiting, leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes traveled over her swiftly and his brows came together in a little frown. 

“This won’t do at all,” he said immediately, unfolding from the wall and striding down the hall to his room. Felicity stood rooted to the spot in shock, trying to process how there could be something inappropriate about a purple tank top and pj pants with little Russian nesting dolls printed all over them. 

Before she had time to work up a suitable argument he was back, a giant hooded sweatshirt and a pair of wool socks in his hands.

“This place is freezing in the winter. Here.”

Oliver handed her the socks and watched as she pulled them on, then helped her sort the sweatshirt over her head; they both laughed when she finally fished her way out of it, her glasses askew. He fixed them for her and then cupped her face in his hands, bending down to give her a soft kiss that turned into two. Their lips were still together when he took another step toward her, pressing her back against the door. Felicity pulled away ever so slightly. 

“Movie, remember,” she mumbled against his lips. He pressed one more dazzling kiss on her and then pulled back with an adorable growl. Felicity bunched the sleeves up in order to free her hands and Oliver grabbed the one closest to him as they made their way back downstairs. She glanced down at herself.

“Stanford, huh? Did you go to school there?” Oliver cleared his throat.

“More or less.”

Sensing awkwardness, Felicity let it go, and the rest of their journey was quiet.

Thea was sitting on the floor in front of the couch when they walked into the tv room, a space that might have been a dusty old library in a past life. Tonight it was quite cheerful, with a roaring fire in the marble fireplace and luxurious throws on the overstuffed furniture. 

“Okay, what do we want to watch,” Thea began without preamble, her attention fixed on the movies she was surfing. “Action, comedy, drama, PORN?” She arched an eyebrow wickedly and Oliver shot her a look.

“Speedy,” he warned, as he guided Felicity to the couch.

“Kidding,” she deadpanned. “This is Netflix. How ‘bout an 80s movie?” 

While Thea skimmed through their choices her phone chimed with a text. She picked it up without breaking stride and glanced down at it. 

“It’s mom. The roads are really bad, so she’s staying in the city tonight.” Thea rapidly texted back a reply, and then glanced up at Felicity. “Does this mean you’re staying over,” she asked. Felicity glanced between brother and sister and shrugged. 

“I guess so.” She looked at Oliver again. “If that’s okay with you.” 

“More than okay,” he answered with a smile.

“You should go turn up the heat in her room,” Thea advised, waving the remote at her older brother. 

“Good idea, Speedy,” he agreed, pushing up off the couch. “Excuse me.” He patted Felicity’s knee on the way to his feet, then slipped out the door. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ

Oliver returned from his task to find both girls on either end of the couch with their legs tucked under them. Felicity had one of the throw pillows in her lap, and they were both laughing their heads off. 

“Ollie,” Thea yelled. “Why was 6 afraid of 7?”

Oliver froze in place, his eyes darting around the room in confusion as they giggled. 

“Because 7 8 9,” they both yelled in unison, high fiving each other for their synchronicity. 

“What do you call an exploding sheep,” Felicity cried out, winking at Oliver. He just stared at her. 

“A Ka-Blamb!”

Thea fell over laughing.

“I told you he has no sense of humor,” she cackled, picking up the remote now that he was back in the room. 

“That’s not true,” Oliver said defensively, giving her shoulder a light shove as he sat down between them. Felicity patted his shoulder in sympathy. 

“It’s okay, I have a whole arsenal of sheep jokes. We’ll find one you get.” Thea snorted at Felicity’s burn and Oliver’s attempt at a frowny face. 

He wrapped an arm around Felicity and she melted against him, still chuckling, and that’s when he turned his head into her hair and went straight for her earlobe, nipping the bottom of it, then running the tip of his tongue over the edge of it from bottom to top, ending at her industrial piercing, which he lipped gently. Felicity’s hand had fallen to his thigh as he sat down, and her fingers suddenly dug in as she tried to control her reaction in front of his sister. 

“Payback is hell,” he breathed against her ear before pulling back like nothing whatsoever had happened. A glance at Felicity showed her flushed and wide eyed, and he grinned wickedly at her. 

“Start the movie,” he ordered, extremely pleased with himself. 

————————————————————————

When their first movie ended everyone agreed that they should watch another. Oliver stood up to stretch and Felicity untangled her legs and followed, tugging on his sleeve and asking softly if he could point her to the bathroom. 

“Anybody want popcorn,” Oliver asked. Felicity nodded, but Thea wrinkled her nose.

“Air popped? Yuck.”

“Nah. Mom isn’t here; go get the microwave stuff.”

Thea cheered and skipped out of the room ahead of them. Oliver showed Felicity to the powder room and then joined his sister in the kitchen to wait his turn. 

Thea must have decided to live on the edge with more than just the popcorn, because she had hiked herself up onto the kitchen counter across from the microwave. 

“Get your butt off the counter,” he scolded mildly. She ignored him.

“I like Felicity, Ollie. She’s great,” Thea offered unasked. Oliver smiled at her before his eyes strayed out the windows at the snow falling.

“I like her too,” he said softly. 

“And she likes you, community service and all? Impressive.” Oliver shot her a warning look that then dropped to the counter in shame, and she slapped her hand down on the granite in protest.

“Oli-ver! You haven’t told her,” she hissed. “You have to tell her!”

Oliver scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply.

“I’ve been getting that a lot lately.” He risked a glance at his baby sister; she was staring an angry hole through his head. “Stop. I will tell her.”

Oliver gave his sister one more warning look as Thea hopped off the counter to retrieve the popcorn, then left the room. 

When they were all assembled back in the room, each with a bowl of popcorn, Thea started through the list of movie choices again. They disqualified several before Thea said, “Ooh, how about this one? It’s a drama about two lovers, and one has a devastating secret.” She’d let her voice turn dramatic, and Oliver felt his heart rate speed up. She wouldn’t dare...

“I don’t think so,” he said, at the same time Felicity said, “No thanks” rather decidedly. He glanced at her but she was looking at her lap. Thea huffed a sigh.

They finally settled on an action movie that he had never seen and didn’t have much interest in, but after her popcorn was gone Thea turned off the lights and curled up at the end of the couch, leaving Oliver and Felicity the opportunity to cuddle, so it didn’t much matter anyway. 

Before he knew it the movie was over, his sister was sound asleep, and Felicity was nodding off. He nudged Thea gently until she groaned, prodding her to get up and go to bed. She grumpily complied without even saying goodnight, and he shared a grin with Felicity. Oliver stood to shut off the tv and turned to look down at his date. 

“Ready?”

She nodded and he pulled her to her feet, then slid his arms around her, pushing them up under the sweatshirt so that he could splay his fingers across her back. They stood together, swaying gently in front of the fire, silent and gazing at each other. Felicity finally bit her lip and looked away shyly. 

“Could we, um, see where your family kept the puzzle table?” Oliver tipped his head to the side curiously.

“Right now?”

Felicity nodded and Oliver shrugged. “Your wish is my command.”

He led the way out of the tv room and back toward the foyer, hanging a right into a huge formal living room with velvet couches, priceless artwork, and vases on pedestals. 

“This is where we bring people we want to impress,” he said with a soft chuckle, suspecting she was thinking the very same thing and hoping to downplay the opulence.

He led her to the back of the room and stopped next to a cushioned window seat that looked out over the snowy grounds. After being in front of the fire for several hours it felt decidedly chilly in here; Oliver pulled her close, then waved a hand around to indicate that this was the spot.

“There was a table here, but if we were having important people over it had to go away, of course.” He shrugged, silently admitting that it wasn’t a very fascinating story. When he looked down at her Felicity was staring at him with an expectant look on her face that suddenly froze him place.

She pushed up on her toes and kissed him, soft and gentle at first, then deeper and more insistent as time went on. He pulled her all the way against him and responded in kind, groaning when she nipped at his lower lip with her teeth. 

“God, Felicity,” he breathed, backing her toward the window seat and sinking to his knees when the backs of hers hit the sill and she sat. He attacked her jaw line, pushing her hair out of the way as he traveled toward her ear, then traced a line downward to her neck. He growled in frustration when he ran into the hoodie, and in one swift move she put her palms flat against his chest and pushed him back, then grabbed the hem of the shirt and whipped it over her head. How her glasses stayed on, he would never know. 

Oliver didn’t even ask permission before sliding his palms up under her tank top, moving them closer to the cups of her bra as he attacked her mouth again. She shuddered against him, her hands busy alternating between scratching lightly through his hair and stroking his stubbly cheeks. 

When he pushed his fingers up under the front of her bra she stiffened; he froze in uncertainty, but before he could even ask her if everything was okay she reached behind her back to the clasp. In three magic strokes—faster than he could even process—she’d removed her arms from the straps and pulled it out from under her tank, dropping it onto the floor dramatically. 

His fingers found their target, trailing over nipples that were already stiff from the cold. Felicity moaned into his mouth before he pulled back to look her in the eye. Her mouth was open, her lips swollen, and her hair tousled from the hoodie coming off. He let his hands leave her breasts long enough to grab the bottom of her tank and pull it up just under them, then, with one more glance into her eyes to make sure of her permission, up over the small, perfect mounds of her breasts. 

He may have stared a bit too long at the view in front of him, because she arched her back to prompt him to action, her hands back in his hair. Eenie meanie miney moe, he thought out of nowhere, and couldn’t help chuckling as he moved in, skimming the underside of each breast with his tongue while she moaned quietly.

“Oliver,” she breathed, and he knew his patience was torture for her. He filed that tidbit away for future reference with a little smile and took one pink bud into his mouth for a taste. Felicity was making little breathy moans that were threatening to get louder, but once he got started he couldn’t stop. 

He slipped an arm around her back, grabbed her thigh with his other hand to hike her up against his waist, then backed up with her until he could swing her away from the window seat and onto the Persian rug beneath his knees.

She sighed as her back made contact with the floor and he lowered himself into the cradle of her hips, his obvious need for her pressing against her center in a way that made them both groan. He held his weight off of her with his forearms, moving back up to her mouth which he kissed with abandon. When he left once more to lavish attention on her neck she swallowed hard and trapped his head between her hands. 

“Oliver, should we...we’re—“ she swallowed again, like she was trying to concentrate—“we’re kind of babysitting, aren’t we?”

Oliver left off his work to look her in the eye.

“First of all, talking about my sister is not what I want to be doing right now. Secondly, she’s fifteen. She doesn’t need a babysitter, Felicity.” She nodded, but looked unsure, so he sighed and pressed soft, closed-mouth kisses to both cheeks and then the corner of her mouth. 

“You wanna stop for now?” She bit her lip, clearly unsure. He sighed again. “Don’t feel bad if you do. It’s okay. I didn’t exactly come prepared to go the whole nine yards in the formal living room, if you know what I mean.”

Felicity cracked a real smile and even giggled, and he smoothed her hair back with a soft smile of his own.

“I am more than willing—and prepared—to continue this in my bedroom, if you’d like.” The look of uncertainty came back, which was still her concern about Thea, he was 99% sure. “Or we can just call it a night.”

Felicity looked away, like she was afraid to see disappointment in his eyes, and he sighed out her name in a whisper.

“Felicity. Hey. I won’t be mad if you want to wait.” Oliver held very still until she looked at him again, letting her study his face and see that he was telling the truth. She finally nodded, a tiny movement. He pressed one more soft kiss on her mouth before straightening his arms and easing back onto his knees, swallowing his groan as his jeans restricted blood flow. 

“Sorry,” she said very softly as she sat up and rearranged her tank top.

Oliver froze, still on his knees between her legs, his hands braced on his thighs. 

“You never have to apologize about not wanting to do something with me, Felicity. Do you understand?” It was her turn to freeze, the hem of her top in her hands, but then she nodded, relieved. As he rocked back on his heels to stand he couldn’t prevent a small frown from crossing his face. 

Had someone ever told her differently?

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Oliver let himself out of the tv room to go turn up the heat in her room, leaving Felicity alone with Thea for the first time all night. The younger girl was preoccupied scrolling through movie choices, but she felt like she should make some sort of an effort to have a conversation.

“So, Speedy, huh?” 

Thea dropped her head toward her chest and groaned dramatically.

“Ugh. YES. Ollie gave me that nickname when I was a little kid, because I was always chasing him around. It’s SO annoying.” Felicity smiled.

“I think it’s sweet. When I was a kid I would’ve done anything to have a big brother. You’re lucky.”

Her speech was enough to divert Thea’s attention away from the tv.

“Do you have any siblings,” she asked.

Felicity shook her head no softly, flipping her palms up in a little shrug.

“It’s just me.”

Thea huffed a sigh, her finger on the remote again before she’d even turned her head away from their conversation.

“You’re the lucky one. You didn’t get a stupid nickname from a dumb big brother with no sense of humor.”

“No sense of humor?” Felicity wrinkled her nose, unconvinced. “Really?”

Thea dropped the remote again and levered herself up off the floor to curl up at the opposite end of the couch.

“He doesn’t get any of my jokes. Like, Why is 6 afraid of 7?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because 7 8 9!”

Felicity laughed out loud, which set Thea off, and by the time they heard the doorknob turn they were both out of control. 

“Watch this,” Thea stage whispered to Felicity, and then launched into the joke again as soon as he’d stepped into the room. Oliver looked like he’d just stumbled into combat, which just made everything funnier. Felicity felt slightly bad about ganging up on him, but it was fun to have a little bonding moment with his sister. 

He still sat down willingly and slung an arm around her, so she assumed all was well. And then he swooped toward her and started doing incredible, toe curling things to her ear—with Thea sitting right next to them—that left her glassy-eyed and panting. 

He looked incredibly smug when he pulled away, and Felicity spent the first ten minutes of the movie trying to compose herself. 

Dammit.

One movie turned into two, and as Felicity munched on her bowl of popcorn and waited for Thea to make up her mind about the next selection she let herself forget for just a moment that she didn’t dare let this night become a regular thing. 

Suddenly, as if she was a mind reader, Thea said, “Ooh, how about this one? It’s a drama about two lovers, and one has a devastating secret.”

Please God no. Felicity felt her heart stop, and said “No thanks” as calmly as possible at the same time Oliver declined. 

The movie they finally chose was violent and forgettable, but it was nice to be curled up with Oliver in front of the fire. Even after Thea turned off the overhead lights and fell asleep on her end of the couch Oliver remained a gentleman, and as the credits rolled and he shooed his sister to bed, Felicity began to wonder if that was going to be it for the night. 

They stood and swayed together for a couple of minutes, and she suddenly decided that if this was the last of the lovely evenings with Oliver Queen, then she had a circle to complete; she asked to see where they kept their puzzle table.

The room was incredibly chilly, and a little dark in the way that gave her a buzz of excitement. Maybe it was the sight of the silent snowfall out the window, or the teenage-thrill of getting caught by the parents, or just a need to feel Oliver’s hands on her again, but Felicity took the initiative and kissed him. 

She felt his surprise at her boldness through the kiss, but she didn’t back off and suddenly he was all in, pulling her against him with a groan. She found herself sitting in the window seat with Oliver’s big frame between her knees, breathless from the onslaught of his mouth.

When he made his frustration known at not having better access to her neck she didn’t even think, just pushed him out of harm’s way and discarded the giant sweatshirt. The cool air raised goosebumps on her arms immediately, and that combined with his roving fingers under her tank made her shudder. 

Felicity felt his fingertips skate against the bottoms of her breasts and froze in uncertainty: This could be the point of no return. Which way should she go? Oliver sensed her hesitation and stilled, and amidst her surprise and gratitude at his conscientiousness she felt an overwhelming need to ignore her better, too safe judgement.

Screw it. Screw ME. 

Felicity reached back for her bra clasp, and half a second later it was in the floor and his hands were on her. It was so good, the torture of having his hands where she wanted his mouth, and she was thrilled when he pulled her shirt up to get closer.

It had been so damn long since she’d had this kind of attention, and it had never, ever been like this. A tiny part of her brain questioned how he got this good, but she shut that down right away, along with the flashes of other, less-than-stellar sexual experiences she’d had. 

For one brief, thrilling moment when her back felt the rug she thought this was what she wanted. But almost as quickly her insecurities reared up: What if? What if he didn’t like what she looked like naked? What if Thea caught them? What if this was the only time, and it was on the floor of his parents’ living room?

Suddenly she was freezing up, trying not to push him away but wanting him to stop. Wanting him to not be disappointed in her. 

She used the Thea excuse, because the other ones were either too complicated or too embarrassing. Oliver didn’t appreciate being reminded about his sister, that was certain, but just when she was bracing for anger or accusations he...backed off. No fight, no arguments. He even cracked a joke, and she wanted to point out that Thea was wrong about his sense of humor, but she also recognized that this was DEFINITELY not the time. 

Felicity paused again when he hinted that they could continue upstairs, and though that solved a couple of her burning insecurities, at this point she was a nervous, angsty mess inside, and she knew whatever they did wouldn’t go well. She felt terrible about it and apologized, and that’s when Oliver Queen really floored her: He stilled above her with a look of shock and concern.

“You never have to apologize about not wanting to do something with me, Felicity. Do you understand?” 

His voice was so gentle, like he couldn’t imagine anyone would ever treat her otherwise, and she froze with her shirt half pulled down to wonder at him. Oliver stood and then helped her to her feet, and as soon as she’d retrieved the sweatshirt and her bra he took her hand in his and led her upstairs, dropping her off at her door with a sweet, uncomplicated kiss. 

“My room is right there,” he said, pointing. “If you need anything you come on in. You would be quite welcome.” 

He gave her one of his soft, closed mouth smiles, wished her a goodnight, and walked away.


	10. Chapter 10

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By 5:30 in the morning Felicity could ignore her bladder no longer; she rolled out of bed and scampered across the chilly floor to the ensuite. Immediate needs met, she stood at the entrance to the guest bedroom and bit her lip. He hadn’t been kidding about the mansion being hard to heat in the winter. Go back to bed or...?

The goosebumps on her arms and her freezing feet made up her mind for her. With a tiny “squee” clamped behind her teeth at her rashness she let herself out of the room and tiptoed down the hallway to the door Oliver had disappeared through the night before.

Don’t squeak, don’t squeak, she warned the door silently as she pushed it open enough to squeeze through. She took about seven minutes to close it so that it wouldn’t make a sound, then stood there in the mostly-dark and watched the bed for signs of life. She could just make out an Oliver-sized lump in the middle under the heavy (very inviting) duvet.

Felicity scurried on light feet to the bed and crawled under the cover in one swift move. Oliver was lying on his side facing her as she got in; he didn’t open his eyes, but she heard him make a gravelly, sleep-filled noise of surprise. He immediately reached a hand out for her, snagging her hip bone and scooching her closer. When she was almost flush against him he made another noise that rumbled through his chest as his fingers skated up under her tank top.

“Hey, can we just...sleep,” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“Absolutely,” he responded softly, removing his hand from her shirt and wrapping it around her back to pull her all the way against him. 

Felicity sucked in a big breath and pushed her knee between both of his. He groaned as her icy foot came to rest against his calves, but it felt so good she couldn’t make herself backtrack.

“Sorry,” she squeaked. 

“S’okay.” He dropped a kiss into her hair and then reached up to tuck her head under his chin. Felicity sighed and draped her arm over his waist, burrowing into the heat of his body and relaxing into sleep again. 

The next time Felicity swam up into consciousness Oliver was on his back and she was draped across his body. He was holding her free hand in his against his chest. One of her legs was hiked up along his thigh, her knee resting on his hip bone, dangerously close to, well, danger. 

“I like waking up with you,” he mumbled, eyes still closed. Felicity knew right then that he’d been awake for awhile but hadn’t moved in order to let her sleep, and for a moment she was overwhelmed with feeling; she squeezed his hand in silent gratitude. She really wanted to move her leg, fearful that she was somehow crushing him, but was worried about brushing something she shouldn’t in the process. As if on cue, she felt a nudge against her kneecap; oh Lord. 

“Everybody likes waking up with you,” Oliver chuckled, his eyes still closed, and the line struck her so funny that she burst into a fit of giggles. Her mirth was contagious, and suddenly they were both laughing hysterically. Felicity finally had to roll off of him, grabbing her stomach with one hand and wiping away tears with the other. 

As she rolled onto her back he followed her over, covering her top half with his and caging in her shoulders with his forearms, his gorgeous face just above hers. 

“God you’re beautiful,” she said without thinking. Oliver dropped a tiny kiss on the end of her nose.

“I was just about to say the same thing about you,” he whispered. 

He stayed above her, studying her, and she lay beneath him silently, watching him look at her. He left a gentle kiss on one eyebrow, another on the opposite eyelid. He gazed at the freckles scattered over her nose, his eyes flicking back to hers every few seconds, like he needed to make sure of her. 

He finally dipped his head and left a soft, reverent kiss at the corner of her mouth.

“Do you want to do this now,” he asked, his eyes never leaving hers, even when she bit her lower lip with her teeth. 

There was something about knowing that a new blanket of snow covered everything outside that stirred Felicity’s blood. The world was so quiet, with bright morning light flooding into the room and no signs of anyone else awake. They could be the only people in the universe, cocooned as they were under the duvet. Oliver, so intimate and yet so chaste, waited above her without expectation, but more than willing if she said the word. In that moment Felicity’s heart split wide open and took him in.

She drew in a shaky breath and held it, achingly aware that doing so pressed her breasts against him in a most delicious way. This was a perfect moment, which would only get weird when the mechanics of condoms and a necessary pee entered the picture. Besides, her body was still sluggish with sleep; she’d be much more into it in the evening when she was fully awake. She shook her head “no” very slowly.

“Not without brushing my teeth,” she whispered huskily, and Oliver threw back his head and laughed so heartily that she grinned and arched her back, slipping her arms under his and settling her hands on his shoulder blades to hold herself against him.

“Okay,” he nodded, smiling indulgently. “How about breakfast instead?”

———————————————————————-

They could already smell cooking when they entered the kitchen, showered and dressed for the day. Thea was sitting at the island.

“Grilled cheese,” she offered around a mouthful. Felicity glanced at Oliver, who was wrinkling his nose at her, but with a twinkle in his eye.

“For breakfast?”

She shrugged one shoulder and took another bite. “We’re out of frozen egg rolls.”

Felicity grinned at the girl as Oliver opened the refrigerator.

“We do have actual breakfast foods, you know.” He turned his attention to Felicity, his head peeking around the fridge door.

“Eggs? Waffles? Oatmeal?”

Felicity chewed her lip and then gave him a cheeky smile.

“Actually, a grilled cheese sounds really good.”

Oliver steered them to the large, sunny breakfast nook at the end of the room, and they ate their sandwiches in companionable silence, looking out over the snow-covered landscape.

When her sandwich was gone Felicity brushed her fingers over her plate and sighed. 

“I don’t want to disappoint Mary, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to get out in this today.”

Oliver, looking over her head at the view, shrugged.

“The grounds crew has already cleared the driveway, and the roads will have been plowed through the night. We’ll be okay.”

“Oliver, neither of our cars is going to be any good in THAT.” She pointed for emphasis, but he shrugged again with a small smile.

“We have other options, Felicity.”

Twenty minutes later they were standing in the Queen family’s cavernous garage; it kind of went on forever. 

“Oh,” she said softly, swallowing down the curse word that wanted to follow it. 

“Most of these won’t be any good in the snow, obviously,” Oliver said softly, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels, self-conscious. “My dad likes his...toys.”

He gestured down the line at a luxury four-wheel drive, huge and shiny, and threw her overnight bag into the back seat when they reached it. Felicity stopped just shy of opening the door and peered over the hood at him.

“What about my car? I, um, I can’t stay over another night.”

“I’ll drop you off at your place after we see Mary, and bring your car to you tomorrow. I can Uber home. Is that okay?”

“That’s not...too much trouble?” The smile he gave her was so soft and slow, and crinkled up the corners of his eyes so sweetly that Felicity couldn’t help smiling back. They climbed into the SUV and headed out. 

Oliver may have been optimistic about how much plowing would be done after that much snow, but their big vehicle muscled through on roads that were mostly empty, and they reached the nursing home without incident. 

“Oh wow,” Felicity breathed as she got out of the car, “it feels great out here!”

“There must have been a warm front behind all the snow,” Oliver mused, taking her arm as they met in front of the vehicle. After days of temperatures in the teens, sunshine and low 30s—despite several inches of snow—was like a breath of spring.

“I hardly need my coat,” she joked as they plodded through the unplowed parking lot.

Carol met them at the door with a big smile and a snow shovel. 

“Most of us spent the night here to make sure we would be staffed today,” she explained as Oliver took the shovel from her with a wry smile and headed back outside to tackle the sidewalks.

“I’ll get Mary,” Felicity called after him. “See you at the puzzle table!” He lifted an arm in acknowledgment and got to work.

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Shoveling gave him plenty of time to ponder everything that had happened over the morning, starting with his very pleasant pre-dawn surprise. Despite his reputation with the ladies—or maybe because of it—Oliver didn’t have that much experience waking up in the morning with a beautiful woman. He was more of a “get out when the job’s done” kind of guy, not one who lingered for breakfast. Or last names. 

This morning—when Felicity had slipped into his bed and put her freezing feet on him—was about the best way he could think of to wake up. He would’ve loved to have done more, but obviously she wasn’t there yet. And honestly, for the first time in his life the idea of waiting didn’t bother him at all, because Felicity was his always. 

That thought alone was enough to keep him warm all the way around the building, even into the courtyard that the common room looked out over; he cleared it too, just as an excuse to get a peek at his girls.

Felicity noticed him and stood up from the puzzle table to wave wildly, which made him grin. Oliver worked his way to the entrance to the three season room and she was there to meet him, pushing the door open and grabbing the collar of his coat to pull him to her for a peck on the lips. 

“Hi,” she said brightly. “Your lips are freezing.”

He huffed a laugh. “It’s cold out here, Felicity.”

“Are you coming in?”

He nodded. “Almost finished. Going around to come in the front. See you soon.” 

Felicity still hadn’t let go of his coat, so he rubbed noses with her before leaning away to break her hold as gently as possible. She made a pouty face but then grinned and let the door close between them. 

He circled the building and came through the front doors to be greeted by Carol holding a cup of hot chocolate. He let her fawn over him while he took off his coat and gloves and gladly accepted the steamy drink, then headed to the common room. It appeared that Carol had been busy, as both Felicity and Mary already had a hot chocolate of their own. 

Oliver smiled at Felicity as he approached the table, sneaking up to Mary’s side and bending down to press his frozen cheek against hers briefly so that she squealed in surprise. 

“Beast,” she scolded mildly, clearly very pleased. 

The puzzle was really starting to take shape: Besides the border, the blue sky was complete, and the bottom was beginning to fill in with flowers. It had become a contest, when the three of them were together, to see who could put the most pieces together. Their casual conversations were punctuated with cries of “Aha!”, or “That puts me ahead”, in smug triumph. 

But Oliver couldn’t help noticing that Mary’s attention was continually drawn to the snowy courtyard out the window. Her hand would hover over the puzzle, but her eyes were on the view, her gaze wistful. 

“I miss going outside,” she finally said quietly, and it was Oliver’s turn to freeze with his hand over the puzzle. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Felicity pulling her hands back and into her lap, anticipating a story. Mary shook her head, as if she’d misspoken.

“I mean going out in bad weather. Or after dark. It sounds silly, doesn’t it, but it’s true. When you get older you give up driving at night, and then you start changing your plans when it’s raining, or threatening to snow, or if there’s any chance it might be icy.” She sighed, cupping her chin in her hand while her elbow rested on the arm of her wheelchair. “It’s been twenty years since I’ve seen this much snow, and I can’t even get out in it.”

“What was your favorite thing to do in the snow,” Felicity asked softly, and Mary sighed. 

“Well, I didn’t always live out here on the coast. Charlie and I raised our family in Central City, which sometimes got quite a bit of snow. The kids loved to sled, of course, and Charlie was an expert at building snowmen.” She pulled her attention back to Oliver and Felicity with a gleam in her eye. “But I liked making snow angels.”

Oliver and Felicity shared a smile, and Oliver reached out to squeeze Mary’s hand just as an aide came to get her for lunch. The tiny woman seemed to shake herself out of her revery and pointed at them fiercely.

“Stay for lunch. We’re getting a real treat today. Grilled cheese!”

They laughed all the way to the dining room.

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The idea came during lunch: Felicity checked her work phone for the current temperature and bit her lip, calculating. When they finished eating she pulled Oliver aside and pressed up on her tiptoes to try to whisper in his ear. He leaned down in accommodation and glanced sidelong at her request, but handed over his car keys readily, and she scampered outside without her coat to complete her mission.

In moments she was back, snow boots in hand, which she held behind her back as she followed Oliver pushing Mary’s wheelchair. Just before they re-entered the common room she had a thought about how cold those boots must be after sitting in the car all morning, so she veered to the side of the hallway and stepped out of her booties and into the others, squealing under her breath at the temperature change on her feet. 

She caught up with Oliver just as he was settling Mary at the table and whispered in his ear again. He listened, his brow knit in concentration, and then he raised his eyebrows and looked her in the eye. 

“You sure?”

Felicity nodded yes with a grin, bouncing on her toes in excitement. Oliver shrugged and excused himself, while Mary craned her neck to watch him go.

“What is he up to,” she asked curiously, but Felicity only smiled.

“It’s a secret,” she replied smugly. 

Oliver was back presently with a lap robe and two knitted blankets from Mary’s room. Without a word he swung her chair around and squatted in front of her, arranging the lap robe and one of the blankets over her lap and tucking them in around her legs. 

“What—“ she protested, but fell silent as he wrapped the second blanket around her neck and shoulders like a shawl. He stopped to consider her a moment, then dug into his pocket and pulled out a knit hat, but as he reached toward her she reared back in horror.

“Oliver Queen, don’t you dare! I don’t get my hair done until Tuesday!” 

Oliver stared at her, non-plussed, but knew very well which battles to lose, so he stuck it on his own head with a smirk and stood. Then, with a confirming glance at Felicity, he grabbed the handles of Mary’s wheelchair and steered her toward the sunroom.

Felicity held the door, and Oliver positioned the chair right in front of the big windows looking out into the fluffy snow of the courtyard. Then the two of them stepped outside onto the sidewalk and moved down a few feet before stopping with their backs to the snow-covered yard. They grabbed hands, nodded to each other, and fell backwards into the snow. 

It had fallen light and fluffy, so when they landed there was a FOOF sound and a flurry of tiny glittery bits that flew up and then fell down around them as they lay there. Felicity giggled and they both began scissoring their arms and legs like horizontal jumping jacks, imprinting angel wings and angel dresses into the snow beneath them. The sky above was crystal clear and a gorgeous shade of blue, just as blue as Oliver’s eyes when he caught her gaze and grinned. 

He was the first to get back up, and for a moment Felicity let herself just lay there in the snow, enjoying the peace that covered over her. She hesitated as Oliver held a hand out for her, turning her head to look in the direction of the sun room: Mary was smiling broadly and clapping. 

When she was on her feet he gave her a quick kiss, and then they both turned to examine their handiwork. Two angels lay in the snow, one bigger than the other, the sleeves of their robes touching. Felicity brushed her gloves together as they returned to Mary, who was still smiling. She reached out for Felicity’s hand and squeezed it in delight, so Felicity leaned down and revealed the surprise.

“It’s your turn, Miss Mary,” she said with a grin. Mary looked up at her, uncomprehending at first, and Felicity watched her look to Oliver for confirmation. He only shrugged softly.

“If you want to.”

Mary frowned. “Hell yes, I want to.”

Felicity clapped her gloved hands together in delight and peeled off her long wool coat while Oliver extracted Mary from all her blankets. Once her coat was off, Felicity pulled off her snow boots, and then knelt in front of Mary and pushed them on over her slipper socks. 

“Wow-ee,” Mary said softly, turning her feet this way and that to admire her new kicks. 

Oliver sneaked a peek around to make sure no one (Carol) was watching, then came around the wheelchair to stand in front of Mary. He took both of her hands and helped pull her up until she was on her feet, then held her there, one hand holding one of hers and the other around her back, while Felicity got her arms into the coat, one at a time.

When she was in he took both her hands again and stepped back so that there was space for Felicity to slip under his arm and stand between them to button her up. When she was finished she ducked back under his arm and he walked Mary back and sat her down again in the chair. Felicity helped her pull gloves on and then moved out of the way.

At the last minute Oliver whipped the hat off his own head and stuffed it on Mary’s, pulling it down to her ears. Her mouth opened in what promised to be a very loud protest, but he held up the flat of his hand to stop her.

“If you want to go outside, you have to wear a hat,” he said sternly.

Mary’s mouth stayed open for another moment, then snapped shut with a click of her teeth.

“Fine,” she muttered, glaring at him.

With one last look around to make sure the coast was clear, Felicity pushed the door open and held it while Oliver rolled Mary outside.

“Oooh,” she breathed when the cold air hit her.

“Too cold,” Felicity asked worriedly as they rolled past her and she let the door shut.

“Oh no, it feels wonderful,” Mary sighed, holding up her gloved hands and waving them around in the sunshine. Oliver parked the wheelchair and set the brakes, then came around the front to help Mary stand again. They did a funny little dance as he maneuvered her into position with her back to the snow, next to Felicity’s angel. 

“Are you ready,” he asked her, but glanced at Felicity—who had stayed in the sunroom—as if looking for reassurance. Felicity bit her lip as she waited, watching for Mary’s reaction. Mary had been staring at her feet as he’d turned her toward her spot, but at Oliver’s question she raised her eyes to him and nodded.

“Ready steady go,” she answered easily, as if 95 year olds made snow angels every day of the week. 

Oliver braced the toes of her snow boots against his own and very carefully let gravity lower her to a sit. There was a lot of groaning and giggling from Mary, but every time he asked if she was okay she would assure him that she was fine. From there it wasn’t much further to her back, and Felicity watched her eyes light up with wonder to find herself lying in the snow. 

When she was set Oliver stepped back.

“Okay, Mary,” he said softly. Slowly, as if remembering how to move her limbs, their friend pulled her arms away from her sides and back down again a few times. Then she stopped and thought about it a second before carefully swinging her legs apart and together.

“Gotta do one at a time,” she chuckled, and Oliver smiled. If he had glanced at Felicity just then he would’ve seen tears standing in her eyes. 

“I think you got it,” Oliver said then, sounding a little nervous about leaving her down in the snow too long. Mary lay there one more moment, just as Felicity had, to take it all in, and Oliver took the opportunity to retrieve his phone from his pocket and snap a photo of her. Then he held out his hands for her. 

They reversed the process, working in stages, first getting her to sit up, then the longer journey to her feet. From there, it was only a couple of steps back to the wheelchair, which she more or less fell into with a laugh and a sigh. 

“What an adventure,” Mary exclaimed as Oliver pushed her back through the door Felicity was holding open. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling, and Felicity couldn’t resist giving her a peck as she worked to pull off her gloves. She even finger-combed through her hair to fluff it back up after the hat came off. 

“What an adventure,” Mary kept repeating softly, while they worked together to get the coat and boots off and cover her back up with the blankets. The common room felt deliciously warm after all that, especially when Felicity fetched another round of hot chocolates. 

When Mary was set up back at the puzzle table, warm drink in hand, Felicity grabbed Oliver’s arm and pulled him to the sunroom and then out into the cold to admire their handiwork.

He wrapped an arm around her and hugged her close as they looked at the three perfect snow angels imprinted in the snow. At Felicity’s prompting, he snapped a couple of photos, then leaned down to press a kiss to her temple.

“That was a good idea you had,” he said softly, happiness infused in his voice.

The sound of the door opening made them both turn.

“What are you two doing out in the cold,” Carol wondered with a smile. Her gaze found the designs in the snow and she stepped out gingerly onto the sidewalk to get a closer look. 

“It looks like you’ve been busy,” she teased, pointing to the large and medium sized angels. And then she made a puzzled noise, her brow knit in confusion. 

“That’s funny. I wonder who made the little one?”


	11. Chapter 11

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“Curtis!”

Felicity was trying to keep her voice down in the crowded hallway, so it came out as a bit of an evil-sounding hiss, which she regretted as soon she saw her intended target jump a foot. 

“Oh! Hey, Felicity. Are you on the way to the all-hands IT meeting too?”

“Well, yes, but-“

“Thanks, by the way, for making me give my presentation last week at that nursing home. I think it really did help, although I’m not sure how the Board received it, I mean, I haven’t heard anything back, which is troubling, and, well, kind of a blow to the ego, after all the time I spent working on it, but hey—Paul didn’t actually move out, he was just at Immediate Care all afternoon with, well, that’s personal, but long story short we’re still together, so that’s cool.”

“Curtis, stop!”

“Oh, sorry. Was I talking too much? I talk too much. Paul says—“

“No,” Felicity gritted her teeth and clamped on to one of his arms with both hands. “STOP. Walking away from your desk. I need my phone back.” Curtis looked down at her and frowned.

“Your phone?”

“Yes, my phone. You borrowed it Wednesday night for the presentation and accidentally took it with you. Please tell me you still have it,” she continued when he only stared at her in confusion.

“Oh. Well, all the stuff from that night is still in my backpack, so let’s go check. Although we really should get to that all hands meeting, I think-“

“YES Curtis, we are going to the meeting. But can we PLEASE get my phone first? I haven’t had it for almost a week.”

They had been swimming upstream against the flow of co-workers heading to the conference room and finally ducked into the deserted bullpen where Curtis’s desk sat. He rummaged through the bag and sure enough, there was her phone, buried at the bottom of the pile.

Felicity gave a happy squeal to have it back in her hands while Curtis looked on, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a grin.

“You know, I kept hearing a faint ringing sound all weekend, but I figured it was just early-onset tinnitus.”

“Well, we’ll have to wait to see who was calling me,” she sighed as they hustled back down the hall: The battery was dead.

By the time they made it into the conference room all the chairs were taken, and even standing room was at a premium. Felicity found herself crammed in behind Curtis with little to no view. The department head and all the supervisors were bunched up at the far end of the room, and none of them looked happy.

“Late last night QC was hacked. Night shift is still here, right now, plugging holes, but it was a breach the equivalent of two sticks of dynamite.” He paused to wait for the gasps and murmurs to die down. “For the foreseeable future we will need every IT employee here to fight this and shore up our firewall. We’ve divided the department into day and night shifts: If you’re on the night shift you can go home now to rest up and report back at 10pm. If you’re on day shift, congratulations, you’re here until 10 tonight.”

There were more gasps and grumbling as the supervisors shifted through their notes, and then they began calling out to their teams. Felicity waited with everyone else, biting her lip and listening for her name. Curtis ended up on the day shift; by the time they got to her name they’d gone through almost every other employee in the department. 

“Smoak! Where’s Smoak,” her supervisor finally called. Felicity couldn’t be seen behind Curtis’s tall form, despite her jumping around and waving. Someone finally stepped aside enough for her to edge around Curtis and get the attention of the front of the room. 

“There you are. Nights.”

She stifled a groan; Curtis caught her eye and gave her a sympathetic look.

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Oliver was really getting the hang of this early morning routine. He made it into the dining room before his mother had finished her coffee, and even surprised her with a kiss on the cheek on the way to the juice carafe. 

Moira Queen might have designer rose-colored glasses where her children were concerned, but she was also no fool. The smile she gave him was both indulgent and suspicious, and it made Oliver clear his throat uncomfortably as he returned to the table.

“Who is Felicity?”

Oliver’s eyes shot up to his mother just as he was sitting down in the chair across from her and he almost missed it entirely.

“Um, sorry?”

His mother raised a “Come on now” eyebrow at him as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

“Thea didn’t stop talking about her all weekend. Apparently she was trapped here Friday night during the snowstorm?”

“Uh, yes. Well, actually, I’d invited her to come to dinner—to meet everyone—but that was before I knew you and dad wouldn’t be here. When I found out the weather might be bad I thought it would be safer to let her stay.” There was a pause while he tried to decide if he was about to be in trouble. “I hope that’s okay.”

Moira’s head tilted to the side in a relaxed way and her gaze dropped to the table before coming back to meet his, a sure sign that he was not, in fact, about to be told off. 

“How did you two meet?”

“At the nursing home. She was volunteering. She works at QC, actually, in IT,” he added quickly, suddenly anxious to paint her in the best light possible. For the first time ever he really wanted his mother to approve of someone he brought home. 

“Well she hung the moon, according to your sister, which is—I must say—refreshing.”

Oliver nodded faintly, not sure whether to take the compliment or bristle at the shade. He kept his eyes on his breakfast, hoping that this was the end of the interrogation, but then his mother sighed; she obviously still had something to say. He looked back up at her.

“Oliver, your father is a remarkable man. But he has a few...bad habits...that I pray you don’t emulate.” Her large blue eyes burned into his and he swallowed hard; this was the closest they’d ever come to his mother admitting that she knew about his father’s infidelity, and it scared him. He himself had suspected for a long time, but had mostly put it out of his mind, because he just couldn’t imagine that a woman as strong as Moira Queen would put up with such behavior. But here she was, over breakfast, confirming his suspicions and treating him like an adult. 

The only trouble was, conversations like this made him fervently wish he was still just a kid. 

Moira’s phone chimed and she glanced at it with a mild frown that grew more intense as she read the message. She uncrossed her legs and tossed her napkin aside as she picked up the device.

“QC was hacked over night. I need to get to the office,” she informed him. Oliver’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he chugged down the rest of his juice. 

“Anything I can do to help,” he asked as he pushed back from the table. Moira’s attention was completely on her phone, and she waved him off gently as she strode from the room.

“I’m sure everything will be fine. I’ll keep you updated.”

Oliver stared after his mother’s retreating figure and chewed his lip in thought. He wanted to text Felicity, but it was still early; she wouldn’t be at work yet, and he didn’t know much of anything to tell her anyway. 

He finished his breakfast and got ready to head out for another day at the nursing home.

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Felicity stopped at QC’s coffee shop to treat herself to a muffin; if she had to work nights for the foreseeable future, she was going to carb load, dammit.

It was almost 10am, and she perked up when she realized Caitlin and Cisco would be eating their lunch in Central City. They hadn’t communicated all weekend, because the pair had been at a co-worker’s wedding on Saturday, and recovering from the co-worker’s wedding on Sunday. 

She FaceTimed them from a seat in the shop and nibbled her chocolate chip muffin while she waited for Caitlin to pick up. They both popped up on the screen, Cisco with a marked frown on his face. 

“What’s wrong with him,” Felicity said immediately, watching him stab angrily into the salad in front of him. Caitlin rolled her eyes.

“I forgot to order his salad without dried cranberries.” She speared a pear slice in her own salad. “How was your weekend?”

Felicity took a fortifying sip of coffee and launched into her weekend adventure, from Friday night’s pizza party to the sleepover, and ending with their day at the nursing home with Mary. Her story was punctuated with lots of reactions by Caitlin; she especially loved hearing about the snow angels. 

“Aw, I want to meet her! What did you say her name was again?”

“Mary Elizabeth Watkins,” Felicity replied proudly. She loved how the name rolled off her tongue. 

Cisco’s face had relaxed out of its pouty state while she’d been talking, but suddenly it was back, and he was staring into space.

“What’s the matter? Did you accidentally get a cranberry,” she asked. He shook his head quickly, still frowning.

“Why does that name sound so familiar,” he wondered, clearly deep in thought. Both girls sat and watched him for a moment, but then Caitlin shrugged.

“Who knows.” She turned her attention back to Felicity. “So when are you and Oliver going out again?” It was Felicity’s turn to frown.

“I wish I knew. We’ve had a security breach here and they’ve put us on around the clock til it’s fixed. Guess who got assigned night shift?”

Caitlin groaned in sympathy, and Cisco swore under his breath. Felicity felt her shoulders relax slightly; just having them share her pain made her feel a bit better. They chatted for a few more minutes, and then Felicity signed off and cleared up her table to head out. 

Her phone chimed with a text just as she was walking out to the parking garage.

MORNING, BEAUTIFUL.

Felicity grinned down at her phone as a fluttery feeling rose up in her stomach.

HEY YOU.

HEARD ABOUT THE HACK AT QC. 

YEAH. SUCKS. I HAVE TO WORK NIGHTS UNTIL WE GET IT FIXED. 

NIGHTS LIKE...

THIRD SHIFT. UGH.

WELL CAN I TAKE YOU OUT TO AN EARLY DINNER?

Felicity smiled again as she approached her car door, and paused to lean against it as she responded.

YES PLEASE!

PICK YOU UP AT 5. 

Felicity blew off the rest of the morning shopping downtown, even though she didn’t really need anything. The novelty of having a week day off felt like a treat, as long as she didn’t let herself think about the impending all-nighter at work. She picked up a pair of super soft aloe-infused gloves for Mary, and a resin Christmas ornament on a Super Clearance rack of a snow angel print in the snow. 

She’d been home an hour before she remembered to plug in her dead phone, then laid down and made herself take a nap, even though she wasn’t very sleepy. She surprised herself by sleeping an hour and a half, but woke up groggy and grumpy and snoozed another thirty minutes to try to shake the feeling. 

It was four o’clock when she finally stirred herself to get around for Oliver’s arrival. Between switching the laundry and cleaning off the coffee table Felicity finally remembered her phone, now fully charged.

She grabbed it off the charger and curled up on the couch, throwing a light blanket over herself and firing up the phone.

12 voicemail alerts stared back at her, all from the same number: Wow. She’d spoken to her mother on Thursday, so there was no way they were from her, and everyone else she communicated with regularly had all known to use her work phone as well, so this was a mystery caller.

She played the first message and immediately wished she hadn’t. 

“Felicity, this is Agent Diggle. John. Give me a call as soon as you get this message. It’s about—it’s important. Thanks.”

She dropped the phone from her shaking hands and stared at it as it sat on the couch cushion. Her stomach tied itself into knots, and she swallowed hard, suddenly sick. Felicity thought about the other eleven messages, all from John Diggle, and pushed her phone away with a moan. 

There was no good news waiting for her in those voicemails. 

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Oliver had just checked in with Carol to record his hours for the day when his phone chimed. 

CAN WE POSTPONE DINNER FOR ANOTHER NIGHT? I WAS MORE TIRED THAN I THOUGHT AND WANT TO REST SOME MORE BEFORE I START WORK TONIGHT. SORRY.

His heart sank a little at the thought of not seeing her, but he replied back immediately.

OF COURSE. TEXT ME TOMORROW WHEN YOU GET UP?

DEFINITELY. THANKS.

She had added a heart emoji at the end that made him smile, so he sent one back.

Sap, he chided himself gently. 

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Felicity’s hands were still shaking when she texted Oliver to back out of dinner. Her stomach growled in protest, but she ignored it. 

She studied the heart emoji he’d sent until her phone went dark, and then stared at the living room wall, curled up tight on the couch, until it was time to get ready for work.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is heavy, kids, but necessary for the story. See notes at the end for more.

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Felicity was halfway through her second night on the graveyard shift when she got the feeling: A tickle in her brain that wouldn’t go away. She slowed her standard breakneck pace and looked back over the last hour’s work. Something felt eerily familiar about the code work left behind after the hack, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, exactly. 

She shook her head quickly to clear it and stretched her arms up over her head. QC had generously provided unlimited coffee, snacks, and sweets for all the IT worker bees; there was even pizza delivered at midnight. There was a rumor floating around from the day shift that Moira Queen herself had served donuts and spoken to everyone that morning. Felicity suppressed a shudder of alarm at the close call: She definitely did not want to meet Oliver’s mother the first time without him there. 

She got up from her desk for a trip to the restroom and a wander around. The conference room had been converted to a canteen, and she grazed through the offerings with half an ear to the conversations around her. 

Just as she was helping herself to a handful of chips she caught the middle of the hushed conversation between her boss and another supervisor. 

“...what they stole.”

“That breach was big enough to drive a truck through, but you’re telling me they didn’t take...anything?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

Felicity didn’t realize she’d forgotten to chew until her mouth snapped shut and she crunched loudly on her mouthful of chips. She glanced over her shoulder to see if she’d been caught eavesdropping as she scurried out of the room. 

The itch in her brain was back. 

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Oliver rolled over with a groan. He’d been dreaming about Felicity slipping into his bed, and the disappointment in waking up without her was exacerbated by his raging hard on. He’d have to take care of himself before he could even hope to go back to sleep; it was like being fifteen again, he thought with a sigh. 

Besides a short text back and forth late in the afternoon yesterday, he hadn’t interacted with her at all, and he was surprised how much he missed her. 

He had contemplated swinging by QC to say hi, but everything was such a mess over there at the moment he didn’t feel he should. His mother hadn’t said much about it, but he could tell it was weighing on her mind every time their paths crossed. 

Since he couldn’t see Felicity to spoil her himself, he decided to see what he could do behind the scenes, so he’d sent his mother a cheeky text about the Care and Feeding of IT Geniuses, and she informed him later that day—with a wry smile—that she had arranged for both day and night shifts to be fed around the clock, including pizza. 

Oliver shifted on the bed again and tried to think about anything but Felicity, but his brain wouldn’t have it, so he grabbed his phone off the nightstand to check the time and then rolled out of bed to hit the home gym. 

If all else failed, he could run until he dropped.

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Felicity sat at her desk with her phone in her hands, staring at the eleven still-unchecked voicemails from John Diggle. She breathed in and out, long and slow, trying to calm herself and work up the courage to listen to them. In the end she left her desk and slipped past the conference room to the elevators, taking one to the floor above in order to hide out in the empty restroom before she hit play.

The first six were much like the original; just a request for her to call him. But by the seventh message she could hear the desperation in his voice, could almost picture him scrubbing a hand up over his head in frustration as he talked. 

“Felicity, John Diggle. I need you to call me. Cooper Seldon got himself new counsel from prison and they were able to get his conviction thrown out. He was released two weeks ago and he’s...he’s gone dark, Felicity. Please call me back and let me know you’re okay.”

The phone fell from her nerveless fingers into the dry bowl of the sink as she braced herself against the edge.

———————————————————————

 

Felicity met Cooper Seldon at the first MIT Cyber Security Club meeting of her freshman year: In a room full of awkward nerds and computer geeks, Cooper was relaxed, confident, and good-looking. He called the professors by their first names, and no one seemed to care. 

He was a sophomore, but he carried himself like a senior, and he was already Vice President of the club. At the end of the meeting, as they were planning the following week’s outing to an ice rink, he caught her eye and winked. Felicity was hooked.

He introduced himself at the skate rental counter, and let her cling to his arm while she flailed a circuit around the rink, her face crimson. He had played hockey in his youth, and even had his own skates. When she apologized profusely for her ineptitude he smiled and insisted it was his pleasure to be her teacher. 

The rest of the semester was a whirlwind of dates and schoolwork. It was obvious early on that she was smarter, so she dialed it back in class to keep from showing him up. She let him take the lead in their study sessions too, because it was easier to pretend he was the first to figure out the answer than to see the flash of disappointment in his eyes when she finished ahead of him.

When it came time to party, Cooper assured her that he was as inexperienced with alcohol as she—after all, he was only 20—and suggested that they get drunk together, at his fraternity house. He held her hair while she puked, and didn’t complain at all about the money he had spent on the booze she couldn’t keep down. The next day he showed up at her dorm room with a bouquet of gas station flowers and a lop-sided homemade cake, because apparently in her inebriated state she had sobbed that she wouldn’t get to spend her birthday with her mother. Despite the fact that it was November and her birthday wasn’t until July, it was the sweetest, most romantic thing that had ever happened to her. 

A short time after that night Cooper showed up at her dorm room to collect her for his monthly D&D night with friends she hadn’t been introduced to yet. The look on his face when she opened the door was troubled and aloof.

“I’m not sure I want you to come tonight,” he began, a hand braced against the doorframe as he looked her over. “I told them you were beautiful and badass, and I don’t want them to be disappointed.”

Felicity’s stomach dropped at the idea that she wasn’t up to his standards. She was head-over-heels for this man—who was older and obviously more worldly—and she would do whatever it took to keep him. After assuring him that she would make more of an effort, he agreed to bring her along with a sigh. They spent the trip over discussing the changes that needed to be made. 

For the next week, despite Caitlin and Cisco’s quiet reservations, she donated all of her conservative, bright-colored clothes and scoured thrift shops for skinny jeans and black tank tops. She painted her fingernails black, and replaced her barely-there mascara and lipgloss with smoky eyes and thick black eyeliner. The leather jacket she could only find new, and she cried bitterly all the way home from the mall, because it had taken every bit of the spending money her mother had worked three jobs to send to her, money that was supposed to last a couple of months. 

Cooper helped her dye her hair inky black with purple highlights in the sink at the frat house—amid hoots and cheers and a couple of rude comments—and when he finally got a look at the end product he pronounced her sexy as hell. Felicity knew then that all her effort and sacrifice had been worth it. 

Things moved forward quickly between them after that. He couldn’t keep his hands off his “goth goddess”, and the compliments and attention left her breathless and giddy. There was no end to the signs of affection he gave her: When he presented her with a bouquet stolen from the Dean’s prize-winning rose garden she brazenly left them in her windowsill for all of campus to see. 

Despite the fact that she was seventeen and he was about to turn twenty-one, Cooper assured her that as long as she was consenting their sexual activity wasn’t truly breaking any laws. And he was so patient and gentle with her in every other aspect of their relationship, she felt entirely safe with him. Besides, his confession one night—as they lay sweaty and rumpled under his comforter just steps away from his snoring roommate—that he was actually still a virgin, and that he felt like them giving up their virginity to each other was a sign that they were forever, melted her heart and any further reservations she had. 

Things weren’t entirely smooth, however; their early attempts were awkward and complicated by privacy issues, and he seemed more interested in getting a blowjob than anything else. When Felicity told him she wasn’t comfortable trying that just yet he had sighed, obviously disappointed, and suggested if she didn’t want to do that, then it was high time they went all the way. 

She yelped in pain when he pushed inside her, stiff-arming him in an attempt to slow him down. He whined her name in frustration and tried to continue, but when she complained that he was hurting her he pulled out with a weary sigh, told her he couldn’t deal with her drama anymore that night, and sent her home.

She returned the next night, utterly contrite, and gave him the blowjob. 

Eventually they settled into a routine, and while there were parts of it that felt good, there wasn’t anything about it that “blew her skirt up”, as her mother was fond of saying. After several trips to the campus health clinic for antibiotics, her teeth chattering from chills and in constant pain, a nurse finally asked her quietly if she knew to pee before and after sex; Felicity had looked at her dully, too miserable to fully comprehend that intercourse was giving her urinary tract infections. When she brought it up with Cooper he shrugged dismissively and joked that now that they knew they wouldn’t have to be interrupted so often by her “female problems”.

Felicity began to see the writing on the wall the night she was sitting on Cooper’s knee while he played poker in the frat house and one of his drunk brothers began teasing him about the redhead he’d banged his freshman year up on the roof of the house. He laughed it off but didn’t deny it, and her face went red in shame. 

She kept it in until they left the room—because she knew an outburst in front of his friends wouldn’t be tolerated—but felt justified in demanding an explanation after he’d told her he was a virgin. Cooper responded by telling her she was overreacting and incapable of taking a joke, and refused to ever discuss it again. 

Soon after that he turned the hacktivism up a notch, asking, then cajoling, and finally demanding that Felicity join him. Usually she could distract him with sex, which thankfully never lasted long. It would get his mind off the subject, but as often as not, after he’d rolled off of her with a grunt, he would complain that between her very un-sexy need to go to the bathroom right afterwards and the way sharing a twin bed with her hurt his back, he would prefer if she slept on the floor. When she returned from the gross-as-hell fraternity bathroom, a sleeping bag would be lying on the floor, Cooper snoring away just above it on the bed.

Those mornings that she woke up, stiff from the concrete floor, her makeup smeared and still wearing the previous night’s clothes, Felicity felt like dying. She pulled away from Caitlin and Cisco, unable to cope with their concern that had gradually morphed into anger at the way Cooper treated her. She was trapped between the feeling that she had to get out and the certainty that no one else would ever want her. He had said as much himself. 

By the time he demanded access to her X-axis bi-numeric algorithm she was powerless to say no. It seemed easier to give in than to resist; there was no fight left in her. She was buried under her covers, exhausted by life and miserable, when Caitlin burst into their room and yelled that something was going on at Cooper’s frat house, and the rumor was that it was FBI.

The next few hours were a blur, as word got back to her that Cooper had been arrested in a federal investigation into the Department of Education hack that had erased thousands of student loan records. She had been pulled in for questioning, but there wasn’t much they could do with her since she was still only seventeen. She was assigned an FBI agent, John Diggle, to keep her abreast of the investigation, and he was a lifesaver. When he began to suspect that she was the creator of the algorithm, he counseled her to seek immunity by testifying against Cooper.

As terrifying as that seemed, a part of her was just DONE, with everything, and though she loved him, she also knew this was her chance to get free of him. So on a bright, crisp, fall day she marched into federal court with Agent Diggle’s giant hand on her arm and gave the testimony that put Cooper Seldon away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may be thinking that Felicity in the flashback is a bit OOC, but I am here to tell you that I started college the most outgoing, self-assured girl possible and ended up exactly like this; some of those experiences are mine, word for word. Emotional abuse, just like physical abuse, is a gradual thing, and often by the time you realize you’re in trouble, it’s too late. Twenty-some years beyond that boyfriend I know that I am a better person for having survived it, because it gave me understanding and empathy for other abused women.  
> Felicity still has some things to work through in this story, but take heart—she also has Oliver. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

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Felicity fumbled her way to consciousness, pulled by a sound she didn’t immediately recognize. She lay there a moment, drifting, until it came again: A text chime.

She pushed out from under the covers, slapping at the nightstand until she got her hands on the device and pulling it back under the comforter with her. It was 12:30 in the afternoon.

QC SITUATION UNDER CONTROL. TAKE THE NIGHT OFF. SEE YOU THURSDAY MORNING. 

Felicity heaved a giant sigh and dropped her face into her pillow, letting the foggy feeling in her brain pull her back into sleep. 

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Oliver took a sip from his water glass and sat back carefully as the server set his plate down in front of him. Moira smiled at him from across the table. 

“Thank you for taking the time out of your day to have lunch with your mother, Oliver.”

He quirked an eyebrow and dropped his eyes to his plate to cover his surprise.

“It’s my pleasure. But you make it sound like a favor.” His eyes lifted to her again. “I’m not the one running a Fortune 500, you know.”

“As true as that may be, you have shown a lot of dedication lately to fulfilling your community service and moving on with your life, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that. Even for lunch at Table Salt.”

Oliver smiled at her as he began cutting up his chicken. 

“How are things? At QC.” He didn’t say which “things” out loud, because this was Executive Lunch Headquarters during the week, and nobody outside of Queen Consolidated needed to know about their hack. Moira chewed her bite of salad and nodded.

“Quite good. Our...special contingent on nights has been relieved. They’ll be back to their normal routine on Thursday.”

Oliver made an interested noise as he ate, torn between letting his mother see his relief at the thought of getting to see more of Felicity and keeping it to himself. He felt her interested gaze on him, at any rate.

“Your father will be home from Hong Kong tonight. He wants to go up to the Camp this weekend. The Chapman’s and the Dorsey’s are coming.” Oliver glanced up at her, but her eyes were on her lunch; it felt like some sort of dance. “We’d love it if you would invite Felicity to join us.”

Oliver swallowed his bite carefully, his eyes fully on his mother now. So the trap had been sprung; suddenly the invitation to lunch made complete sense. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t know if Felicity knows how to ski, mom,” he began, trying to work out whether he should be more pleased or concerned about this turn of events. 

Moira lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug and smiled sweetly at her son.

“Well if not, she’ll have the best teacher I know.”

Oliver huffed a laugh and dropped his gaze.

“Okay, I’ll ask.”

————————————————————————

Around 4 o’clock he got the urge to reach out to Felicity, so he fired off a text as he was getting up from the card table.

JUST SURVIVED ANOTHER BRIDGE TOURNAMENT WITH ‘THE LADIES’. FEEL LIKE HELPING ME CELEBRATE MY WIN?

There was no immediate answer, so in the meantime he hunted Carol down in case she had anything for him to do. A few minutes turned into half an hour; Oliver kept checking the screen, paranoid that his phone was being an asshole. 

Finally, at ten til 5, it chimed. 

PRETTY WIPED OUT FROM THE NIGHT SHIFT. DON’T KNOW IF I’LL BE GREAT COMPANY.

Oliver scratched his head in thought before answering.

I CAN BRING DINNER...

There was more silence as he waited, fidgeting.

OK

He refrained from fist pumping and let his fingers do the talking.

WHAT SOUNDS GOOD?

NOT PIZZA.

Oliver chuckled and headed off to tell Carol he was leaving for the day. 

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Less than an hour after her last text there was a muffled knock at the door: More like a series of knocks, bumps, and a bit of a scrape. Felicity rushed forward—half afraid of what was awaiting her—and flung the door open to find something Oliver-sized, buried under a pile of various bags and one particularly intriguing cake box. She couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her.

“Is that you under there,” she teased, unsure whether to help relieve him of his burdens or just get out of his way.

“Think so,” came the muffled reply. The way he was carrying everything reminded Felicity of a giant Jenga puzzle, so she decided the safest course was to steer him by the elbow into the kitchen and let him do the rest.

When his hips stopped against the counter he sighed and began shifting the items in his arms.

“This,” he indicated a plastic bag hanging off his pinkie finger, “goes in the freezer.” Felicity scurried to comply. He sorted through the rest of his bags, pulling things out and setting them on the counter. 

“There’s a pretty good Italian place close by. I realize Italian is in the ballpark of pizza, but I took a gamble.”

There was a large container of lasagna and another of Fettuccine Alfredo, enough salad for four people, and a foil-lined bag of garlic bread.

Felicity pantomimed peering over his broad shoulder at the front door and he grinned at her.

“What?”

“I was just wondering how many people you brought with you to help us eat all this stuff.”

Oliver’s grin turned bashful, and he seemed to be trying to hide it by washing his hands.

“I didn’t know whether you were a red sauce or a white sauce girl, so I figured I’d get both. Besides,” he added, reaching around her for the kitchen towel and briefly trapping her between his arms, “this way you can have plenty of leftovers.” He gave her a quick kiss on the end of her nose and then stepped away with a wave toward the counter.

“There’s wine in there somewhere.”

Dinner was quiet and low-key. Felicity quizzed Oliver on the contents of the white box—Italian Creme Cake, Thea’s favorite—and then asked what she’d put in the freezer for him.

“Ice cream,” he said around a mouthful. “In case you didn’t like cake.”

Felicity shook her head at him, already well on her way to being stuffed to the gills.

“Why, I do believe you’ve thought of everything, Mr Queen,” she crooned in an over-the-top southern accent. He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I accept tips.”

She grinned at him and he smiled back, then cleared his throat and studied the table between them.

“So, ah, I was wondering if you had any plans for this weekend.”

“The nursing home, I guess. Other than that, just the usual weekend stuff, you know, laundry.” She crinkled up her nose at him to let him know what she thought of THAT chore. “Why?”

“Well,” Oliver drew the word out as he shifted in his seat, suddenly shy, “my family has a Camp up in the mountains—for skiing—and I was wondering if you’d like to join us. There should be great conditions this weekend.”

Felicity’s face had gone very still as he talked, imagining sleeping in tents pitched in an Everest Base Camp scenario, and shuddered.

“Oliver, I don’t...camp.”

Oliver chuckled enough to cause his dimples to appear, and Felicity tipped her head to the side, obviously missing something.

“Trust me, Moira Queen doesn’t “camp”—he actually used finger quotes—“either. It’s quite civilized, I promise.”

“Well, I don’t know how to ski. I mean, I went once, back in college, but I was so terrible at it I vowed never in my life to do it again. Besides, you wouldn’t want me holding you back all weekend.” 

Oliver reached across the table requesting her hand and she reached back; he squeezed her fingers gently.

“I’m sure you weren’t that bad—“

“It took me thirty minutes to get down the bunny hill.”

He huffed a laugh at her exasperated tone and she couldn’t stop a smile. 

“Give me half a day to teach you, and if you still hate it you can curl up in front of the fire with a good book for the rest of the weekend. Promise.”

Felicity bit her lip and used her free hand to push her fettuccine around her plate in thought. She looked up at him from under her lashes and he squeezed her hand again.

“I won’t be in the way? I mean, there’s room?”

“Trust me. And, Thea has a closet full of ski gear that you can wear.”

“She’s a skier too, huh?” Oliver shrugged one shoulder.

“Snowboarder, actually.” He grinned wickedly. “She’s the black sheep of the family.”

Felicity laughed and then nodded.

“Okay. Why not?”

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Oliver had never strategized faster in his whole life: It was a good twenty-five minutes from the nursing home to Felicity’s door, and he needed to find someplace to get dinner. And dessert. And wine. Oh God.

A quick check of Google maps reminded him of the little Italian place, not far from her apartment, with a bodega next door. He zipped through traffic, planning his order, and only questioned his sanity when he decided to try to carry everything to her door in one trip.

He more or less knocked on the door; the wine bottle and the cake box inadvertently did most of the work. He could really only guess Felicity’s location by her voice, because the majority of his view was obstructed, but she helpfully steered him to her kitchen. 

She was adorable when she was teasing him about the huge amount of food he’d brought, and he counted the night a success at that very moment, no matter what might come later. Oliver took the opportunity to hold her loosely between his arms on the pretext of drying his hands, and would’ve done more if he hadn’t been starving.

A lighthearted moment during the meal was his opening to bring up the ski trip, so he cleared his throat and jumped in, more nervous than he should be. Felicity looked a little shell shocked by the idea, which convinced him to omit the bit about his mother expressly inviting her, and the fact that two members of QC’s Board and their wives would be guests there too. 

Talking her into it was both easier and much harder than he’d imagined, made more difficult by the way she’d looked at him from under her lashes; it simultaneously stopped his heart and made him squeeze her hand out of pure love. 

————————————————————————-

Oliver flatly refused to let her help clean up, shooing her to the couch with an order to find something she wanted to watch. When he finally made it into the living room Felicity was curled up in the corner of the couch, looking full and sleepy. He settled in next to her, planning to take her feet into his lap, but as soon as he reached for her she launched herself at him, snuggling into his arms with her head on his chest. 

They stayed that way for maybe an hour, Felicity dozing as Oliver held her tight, letting go only occasionally to stroke her hair, even though the tv wasn’t holding his interest and he was fighting sleep himself. Then suddenly she was sitting up, pushing toward the far side of the couch to get free of his arms; when she was tucked up against the end of it she turned to look at him.

“Everything okay,” he asked, bewildered and a little groggy. Felicity pushed her hair back off her face and readjusted her shirt.

“Yes. Fine. I just...I just need to know if you brought me dinner...because you thought it would get you an invitation to spend the night.” By the end of her sentence she was studying her hands in her lap.

“What? Felicity, no. You’ve had a hard couple of days at work and I just wanted to spoil you a little, that’s all. Plus,” and now it was his turn to look down, “I missed you.”

She scooched closer to him, her hand reaching for his, and he swallowed it inside his own, holding it gently.

“Felicity, we will do this as slowly as you want. You are in charge from this point on.”

“Really,” she asked, her eyes searching his for confirmation as she crawled a little closer. 

“Absolutely,” Oliver promised.

Ten minutes later he was on his back on the living room floor with Felicity’s body draped over his torso, on the receiving end of slow, languid kisses.

“Clearly you should’ve been in charge from the very beginning,” he mumbled against her mouth.

In response she rolled her hips against him until he groaned.

“Oh god, Felicity,” he ground out between his teeth, his hands planted on her thighs to hold her still. 

“Did I hurt you,” she asked immediately, lifting off him slightly and searching his face.

“No,” he assured her, but at a higher pitch than normal. “It’s just, ah, been a hard week for me too.”

They both registered what he’d said at the same time and chuckled, and suddenly there was a wicked gleam in her eye.

“I think I have the perfect way to thank you for dinner.”

He was just uttering a confused “what?” when she wiggled down the front of him and worked his legs apart with her knee, then planted herself between them. Her hands were already fiddling with his zipper, and he lifted his head off the floor, shocked, to watch as she opened up the front of his jeans and reached inside.

Oliver hissed when she wrapped her hand around him, freeing him from his boxer briefs with a breathy “Oh”. 

“Shit, Felicity,” he groaned, her cool hand sliding down his shaft to the base and then back up with a little twist of her fingers. She caught his eye once more and held it while she moved in, covering him with her mouth as he growled with pleasure. 

The little noises she made while she was taking him in her mouth almost made him lose control immediately. His hands left her thighs of their own accord and hovered around her head; whether to direct her or slow her down, he couldn’t decide, but either way he wasn’t going to last long. 

She left his dick with a pop that made him moan, and when he opened one eye to look at her she met his gaze with lusty eyes and a slow grin.

“You can hold my hair, it’s okay.”

“You sure,” he confirmed, mostly breathless, and Felicity nodded, dropping right back down onto him with a hum of pleasure that made his eyes roll back into his head. 

Oliver still hesitated, ghosting over her before reaching for her head and burying his fingers in her loose, wavy hair. He had reached the point of no return, and barely registered when Felicity shifted one of her legs to the outside of his, settling her center on his kneecap and grinding. It elicited little moans from her that nearly drove him over the edge, especially in the brief moments when she would pause her ministrations, lost in the pleasure of the friction she was giving herself on his very obliging knee. 

“Felicity,” he gasped, his head flung back against the carpet when he finally came. She had pulled her mouth off of him as he exploded, but she stayed hovering just above him, her hand still working him smoothly; her moans and sighs mixed with his until he couldn’t tell one from the other. 

Oliver’s arms dropped lifeless to the floor on either side of him, and over the rushing sound in his ears he heard her chuckle, obviously pleased with herself. He let the buzz of pleasure run its course through his body before he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

“Damn.” His head felt like it weighed a million pounds, but he made himself lift it to look at her. Felicity had sat upright, but was still wriggling her hips so that she rubbed herself on his kneecap in slow little circles, her eyes heavy-lidded and a lazy smile in her face. 

He started to ask if he’d made a mess, since he was pretty sure she hadn’t swallowed, but the words died on his lips when he noticed her hands fisted up in her shirt, which lifted it enough to reveal a tantalizing amount of her stomach. 

“Did you...” he began, but trailed off when she grinned. 

“I need to do laundry anyway,” she said, and then laughed, her eyes dancing. In one smooth move she pulled the tee shirt over her head, balled it up, and laid it aside, then crawled forward to plant a hand on either side of his shoulders and lower herself onto his chest in just her bra. 

He growled his approval at the move, banding his arms around her with a sigh and lifting his head to meet her for a slow, deep kiss.

“I feel like you paid me back for dinner and then some,” he said against her mouth. Felicity moved away to nuzzle his earlobe, which sent a shiver down his spine, but she didn’t answer.

“Maybe it should be your turn,” he continued, preparing to take her with him in a roll, but he felt her back stiffen in his arms as she pulled her legs up and planted her knees on the carpet to either side of him. He was half expecting a fight, but her voice was still soft and teasing when she spoke.

“I think we’re even for tonight,” she murmured, peppering his face slowly with soft kisses. Then she stopped above him and looked him in the eye. “But I would like it if you stayed over.”

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After dinner Felicity fell asleep against Oliver’s chest, the television a comforting murmur in concert with the beating of his heart beneath her ear.

And then she dreamed.

She was in a wintery forest at night, a bright moon making the snow sparkle. Her feet were silent as she walked, and though the snow was deep, she did not struggle.

Off to her right there was a moonlit clearing, and as she approached she saw that it was covered in snow angels. Before she could wrap her head around this she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned; without even looking she knew it would be Oliver, and she was already smiling for him. 

But the hand on her was Cooper’s, and it morphed into a claw that dug into her shoulder and left bright red drops of blood in the snow at her feet. Paralyzed by fear, she could neither move nor scream, and somewhere inside she felt complete despair. 

The next moment she was awake, her body’s last defense against the certainty of impending death. For a brief, terrifying moment she felt arms around her and forgot whose they were. But she met no resistance as she pushed out of them, and that was enough to tell her brain to redirect her headlong rush across the room to merely the end of the couch. Her heart rate slowed further when she confirmed that it was Oliver with her, just Oliver, looking a little baffled at her behavior. 

“Everything okay,” he asked, his voice a bit thick with sleep. 

Felicity panicked, unable to explain the dream to him without spilling her secret. She bought herself a moment by running a hand through her hair and fiddling with her shirt, her mind racing through excuses. 

“Yes. Fine,” she managed. “I just...I just need to know if you brought me dinner...because you thought it would get you an invitation to spend the night.” The cover was so flimsy she couldn’t even meet his eyes; he’d surely see right through her. 

Oliver hadn’t even finished his denial and explanation before she knew it had been a mistake for her to say. He was suddenly all she wanted in the world, and Felicity began moving back to him before she was fully aware of what she was doing. 

This man is not Cooper, she reminded herself, creeping ever closer in search of warmth and reassurance. Oliver took her back into his arms with a promise that she was in control, and his steady gaze held so much love for her it took her breath away. 

At first Felicity was content to straddle his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her cheek was resting on his shoulder, and when she drew a deep breath and let it out he sighed with her, their bodies sagging together. 

She kept her eyes shut, concentrating on syncing their breaths, feeling all the points where her body pressed up against his. His grip on her was solid but not possessive, a grounding force in the dim light and the late hour. 

After what felt like forever but was merely minutes, Felicity sat back to look Oliver in the eye. They studied each other silently, a conversation passing between them with just their eyes. Finally she smiled and moved to kiss him, slow and soft, deepening it as they continued until she had to pull away to get a breath. 

Oliver shifted beneath her, and she realized things had probably gotten a little uncomfortable in those jeans of his. She wriggled backwards off his lap and stood, pulling on his hands to bring him with her. He was staring up at her, intent, curious but trusting. He stood in one smooth motion, and she was reminded again of their height difference.

With one good push she’d shifted the coffee table out of the way, and pulled on his hands again to get him on the floor. She tried to crawl back into his lap, her lips finding his with a crash, but this didn’t seem to be the ideal position either. With a shy smile she laid her palms flat against Oliver’s chest and pushed him backwards until his back was flat on the floor. 

Now she was free to crawl up his body and lay full length on him, kissing him with aching slowness. They had very little experience making out together; this was the first opportunity they’d had to take their time, not squashed in a car or hiding out in his parents’ formal living room. 

“Clearly you should’ve been in charge from the very beginning.” Oliver muttered it in the middle of a kiss, his hands bracing her hips.

The compliment made Felicity roll her hips against him, a slow grind that left him groaning and squeezing her thighs. Immediately she froze, afraid she’d hurt him, but his assurances that all was well—considering the circumstances—suddenly made her bold.

The dream, the news from Agent Diggle, the uncertainty of her future at the company and with Oliver—all of it weighed on her mind, but there was one thing she could do to distract her body and please the beautiful man underneath her. 

“I think I have the perfect way to thank you for dinner,” Felicity purred, crawling backwards to settle herself between his legs while he watched her, confused. She had his zipper down before she could second guess herself, and felt his eyes on her when she reached in.

She couldn’t help the sound of surprise she made as her fingers wrapped around him, thick and warm and hard, and his hiss in response to her touch spurred her on; she gave him a long slow stroke, twisting her hand lightly as she traveled back up to the tip. Oliver groaned out her name in a way that sent a shiver up her spine. She very much wanted to do this. 

Felicity caught his eye and held it as she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.   
She loved the noises he made as she explored him with her tongue, following each swipe with a stroke of her hand that left him gasping. It brought sounds out of her too; his hands tightened against her hips in response to her little moans and sighs.

The more she worked him the more wet she got, and she knew he was getting close by the way his hands waved around near her head. It was obvious that he wanted to put those hands on her, to guide her, and she felt a rush of warmth for Oliver that he would insist on being given permission before grabbing her hair. 

Felicity let go of him with an unintentional—but fun—pop, and seriously enjoyed his reaction when she told him he could touch her. She attacked him again immediately, deep throating him with gusto. His hands plunged into her hair, and suddenly she needed more. She swung a leg over his and found his denim-covered kneecap with her center, seeking some pressure to apply to her throbbing clit.

It got harder to concentrate after that, and she found herself forgetting him briefly as she rolled against his knee, moaning. It seemed to be working for Oliver, though, because before very long she felt him tense, and he gasped out her name as he came. 

At the first salty taste of him she pulled her mouth away but stayed over him, continuing to stroke him even as he emptied himself into the fabric of her shirt. God he was sexy, his chest heaving as he spent himself against her. Felicity kept up her own grinding, enjoying the feeling without needing her own release just yet. Those were...complicated waters to navigate, and she just wasn’t ready to share that much of herself with Oliver. 

With her shirt discarded out of necessity she slithered back up his front, wanting to kiss him some more, and he seemed more than willing to oblige. But—though he offered willingly—she didn’t feel prepared to do more, especially as it pertained to her own body. Still, she couldn’t imagine him leaving; not tonight, maybe not ever. 

Felicity mentally shook herself out of thinking beyond the present moment, looked him in the eye, and asked him to stay over.


	14. Chapter 14

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It was 3:05am and Felicity was wide awake. She lay in her bed, blinking at the blurry ceiling and listening to the slow, steady breaths of a sleeping Oliver Queen. Oliver Freaking Queen. She almost whispered it under her breath, just to make it more real.

She was flat on her back, one leg sandwiched between both of his, just north of his knees, as he lay on his side facing her. One of his arms was draped across her stomach, the other tucked under his pillow. If she reached a hand up she could cup his cheek and run her fingers over his stubble, but she didn’t want to wake him. 

If this was a mistake, it was probably the best one she’d ever made. 

She’d thrown on another shirt...after, and they’d broken out the ice cream and that heavenly cake. Oliver sat across from her at the kitchen table, quiet and blissed out, smiling softly at her whenever their eyes would meet. 

When it was time for bed she slipped into the bathroom first, leaving a brand new toothbrush on the counter for him before she left. Oliver was resting against the wall opposite the bathroom door, arms crossed, as she emerged. 

She had ripped the sheets off the bed and was halfway through remaking it with her spare set by the time he walked into the room; he moved around the bed and helped her tuck in the top sheet without a word. 

“Which side,” she asked kind of awkwardly, waving both hands over the bed like she was casting a spell. Oliver shrugged.

“I’m not picky.”

She nodded once and crawled in on her side, and after clearing his throat he did the same. The sheets were cool, and she couldn’t help saying “Brrr” as she slid across, seeking his warmth. 

“Why do we say that,” she wondered out loud, fiddling with the blankets to cover her nervousness. 

He hummed a “What?”, rolling onto his side and reaching out for her at the same time. 

“Brr. I mean, why does it mean something’s cold? I don’t know.” She shook her head rapidly as a huge yawn overtook her. “Can’t think. Too tired.”

Oliver chuckled and pulled her close, burrowing into her and nuzzling her neck with a happy growl. Felicity’s body stilled even as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, wondering if he was going to try for round two anyway, but he heaved a giant sigh and moved no more. 

Now here she was, in the dead of night, her body tricked into thinking it should still be at work on the graveyard shift and her brain spooling up for the coming day that was still hours from arriving. 

She knew how she would solve this problem if she was alone, but she was definitely not alone at the moment, and the thought of Oliver waking up in the middle of her getting herself off was too embarrassing for words. She almost groaned out loud at the mental picture. 

But after several more minutes of alternating between holding her eyes open as wide as possible and then squeezing them shut so hard they watered—for what scientific purpose, she had no idea—Felicity was no closer to sleep and doubly frustrated. She huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes at the ceiling, then gently extracted her leg from Oliver’s slumbering form and scooched out from under his arm and on out of bed for a quick trip to the bathroom.

He had rolled the other way in his sleep while she was gone, and she was able to slip back under the covers without disturbing his deep, heavy breaths. 

Felicity lay still for another minute—her head tipped toward his broad back—to make sure he was truly out, then pulled her shirt up over her breasts as quietly as possible. Her fingertips ghosted over her nipples in synchronous circles, eliciting a tiny sigh as the friction immediately sent signals further south promising even better things to come.

She slid a hand down over her stomach and slipped it under the waistband of her pj bottoms, her cool fingers circling her clit with practiced efficiency. Her session with Oliver earlier in the evening had prepped her thoroughly—her body had been strung tight and humming since then—so in no time she was building to a climax. She called up a picture in her mind of Oliver’s face when she made him come, and with one hand lightly pinching her nipples and the fingers of the other bringing her to the edge, Felicity felt herself go over, her body stiffening as nerve endings exploded and her orgasm washed over her in waves. 

Her fingers continued to press their circles for several more seconds, wringing everything possible out of her climax, until she sighed once, long and deep. She rearranged her clothing, rolled onto her side against Oliver’s back, and fell asleep. 

————————————————————————-

Thank Google she’d set an alarm on her phone, because when it went off three hours later Felicity was dead to the world. She woke with a warm body wrapped around her from behind, his hips pressed against her backside and his morning wood nestled into the crack of her ass. 

She pushed back against him on the pretext of stretching, sliding the bottoms of her feet down along his knees and shins and making him growl. The hand that Oliver had draped over the front of her slid up under her shirt as she lengthened herself against him and he followed the line of her stomach up over her ribs to cup a breast. Her stretch against him morphed into an arch of her back as his fingers caressed her nipple and the arm that had been cradling her neck attempted to move down and join it. 

She hummed with pleasure but wriggled away from his questing fingers anyway, slipping out of bed even as he made a grab after the tail of her shirt. 

“I have to go to work,” she reasoned, with a soft groan at the end to let him know how little she really did want to go. Oliver propped his head in his hand and sighed, but made no further move to stop her. 

He was no longer in her bedroom when she got out of the shower, and if the bed wasn’t exactly made in the conventional sense, he had at least pulled the covers somewhat up over the pillows. It made Felicity smile. 

Coffee was brewing when she walked into the kitchen in her pencil skirt and tailored button down, her nearly-finished ponytail in her fingers. He’d found the mugs and had one waiting to be filled; as she poured her cup he shifted his weight off the kitchen cabinet and slid his arms around her waist from behind. 

“I feel bad that you didn’t get to, you know, finish last night,” he murmured against her ear, lipping her piercing at the end of his sentence. Felicity sucked her lips in as she set the coffee pot down, thinking about her response, and then wrapped both hands around her mug and turned in his arms so she could look him in the eye. 

“Who says I didn’t get to finish?”

She bit her lip and watched his eyes dart side to side in confusion, then tipped her head with a “think about it” look as the wheels turned in his head. Realization finally dawned, and the confusion in his eyes bled away to reveal a new kind of heat and a hint of frustration. 

“Really?”

Felicity shrugged her shoulders in a way she knew for a fact was adorable and took her first sip of coffee. 

“I’m sorry I missed it,” Oliver growled, and he was so sexy in that moment—bed head and yesterday’s clothes and all—she considered pulling him back into the bedroom and giving them both an encore. But no: She was a responsible adult now, not a horny college student who could blow off class to, well, blow her boyfriend.

That line of thinking circled too close to the mess from her past that was threatening to end this current shot at bliss; Felicity’s smug flirtatiousness dropped away. She managed a soft smile at him before she indicated with her body language that she needed to get back on track. 

Oliver’s hands offered no resistance as she stepped around him to finish getting ready. 

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For the second time in less than a week Oliver Queen was waking up with Felicity Smoak in his arms. This could become a very addicting habit.

He flexed his hips against her ass and pulled her a little closer to his chest. His left arm was more or less asleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The scent of her shampoo was in his nose, her hair tangled into his scruff. He would happily lie there quietly if she stayed asleep til noon. 

He was drifting in and out when her alarm went off. She stretched like a cat along his whole length, and regular old morning wood suddenly became another beast altogether. His hand slipped up under her shirt on reflex, exploring and enticing, and for a second there he thought she might be into it, but she wiggled away from him and escaped. 

A promise is a promise, he reminded himself; he propped himself up on the bed and let her go with a sigh. Maybe next time. 

As soon as she was out of the room Oliver slid out of bed and dressed in yesterday’s clothes, groaning as he pulled up the zipper on his jeans. Shit, that was no fun. He threw the covers up on the bed, taking just a second to study the results; it wasn’t great, but maybe he’d get points for trying. 

He could hear the shower running when he passed the bathroom door and his jeans got tighter, if that was possible; he readjusted as best he could and continued somewhat stiff-legged into the kitchen. Coffee was easy enough to find—it was about the only thing in her cupboards. Oliver peeked into her fridge again and was glad he’d brought so much extra food last night. What, exactly, did this girl eat?

Oliver was leaning against the counter when she marched into the kitchen, her hands busy on her head, finishing her hair. This was about the first he’d seen of her in professional clothes; it could be the boner talking, but he’d like them a lot better on the living room floor.

He shifted off the counter and slipped his arms around her waist as she poured her cup of coffee, unable to resist trying one more time to entice her to take the morning off. 

“I feel bad that you didn’t get to, you know, finish last night.” Fresh shampoo smell wafted up from the top of her head, and he found himself fascinated by her industrial piercing. He was just about to elaborate on his need for her when she turned in his arms and stared right at him. 

“Who says I didn’t get to finish,” she countered, bold and a little cheeky. Oliver froze, reviewing everything that had happened the night before and wondering if he’d forgotten something; and then, when she gave him The Look, he spent another few seconds trying to decide if that meant...

Her sly smile said yes.

“Really?” Oliver was both turned on by the idea and disappointed that he’d apparently missed it. He said as much, his desire for her rolling off of him in waves. He stared her down, willing her with his eyes to stay just a few minutes longer, and for a second he thought he’d succeeded. 

But the look of desire slipped off her face in a blink as her body seemed to shrink away from him and fold in on itself; Oliver had never experienced anything like it. Shock left him numb, and when Felicity moved out of his arms he let her go without a word. 

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Felicity’s day boiled down to missing Oliver, feeling bad about the way she’d left him that morning, pretending she didn’t know exactly who had hacked QC Sunday night and why, and ignoring those voicemails. Her phone rang six times while she was at work, always the same caller, she assumed all with the same message: Call John Diggle back and let him know you’re okay. It made her stomach hurt. 

Oliver texted late in the afternoon, asking if he could see her again that night. She begged off, needing sleep. Besides, she managed to tease back, he was going to get her all weekend, which would probably prove to be more than enough, even for him.

NEVER, was his only reply. 

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Mary was already hard at work on the puzzle when Oliver walked into the common room, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree when she spotted him. She threw her hands out and then clapped them together in joy.

“You’ve done the deed,” she crowed, loud enough for the whole building to hear. Oliver froze a step, his eyes going wide, but then he made himself push forward, frowning to cover his furious blush.

“What? Mary! I don’t know—“

“Oh shush! It’s written all over your face.” Mary swatted a hand in his direction as he ducked his head and slunk into a chair. 

“You are...impossible,” he hissed, fumbling for the right word in his embarrassment. Mary couldn’t look more pleased with herself if she tried. “And we did not...do the deed, for your information,” he continued, as quietly as he could manage and still make it loud enough for a 95 year old to hear. 

“Hand job, then?” Mary smiled and gave him a sly look, nodding in approval. Oliver thought he might die on the spot.

“I am not—“ he was practically chewing the words—“discussing this with you.” 

She hummed happily to herself as she picked over the puzzle, completely unfazed by his threats. Oliver’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he blew out a huge sigh. He propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand while he poked through the pieces. 

“Is it that obvious?”

Mary looked up at him and grinned wickedly, and he sighed again. 

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“Skiing, huh?” Cisco’s grin was a mile wide. He took a huge bite of pizza and began chewing. “Does he know it took you thirty minutes to get down the bunny slope,” he teased around his mouthful. Felicity rolled her eyes.

“He knows.” 

Caitlin shot her partner in crime a knowing look.

“He’s braver than we thought.” They both nodded, then dissolved into laughter as Felicity sighed. At least she had yummy leftover lasagna for a friend. 

Cisco’s eyes suddenly went wide, a triangle of pizza stuffed in his face, and he made an indescribable noise of surprise. Felicity froze, a forkful of lasagna hovering in front of her mouth; Caitlin looked equally concerned.

Cisco chewed rapidly with a finger held up for silence, then gulped a swallow and shook his head. 

“Gah. That was rough. Anyway, I know why Mary’s name sounded familiar. She used to work at Star Labs!”

Before either woman could protest he flapped his hands for silence.

“Before Star Labs was Star Labs, it was Star Utilities. Like, 50 years ago. If you go into the main lobby, over by the conference center?”—he paused to look at Caitlin and waited for her to nod in understanding—“there are a bunch of plaques commemorating the history of the place. And that’s where I saw Mary’s name.”

Felicity gave him a skeptical look, her lips pooched out and her brows drawn together. 

“Cisco, there have to be hundreds of Mary Watkins—“ He cut Felicity off with a shake of his head.

“It said Mary Elizabeth Watkins.”

“But still...” Caitlin added, as unsure as Felicity. But Cisco was not ready to give up his argument. 

“In the early 1960s, Star Utilities provided all the electricity and water for greater Central City. They had one of the first IBM computers, you know, the room-sized ones”—he flung out his arms to illustrate—“and Mary was the first person trained on it. But that’s not why she’s on a plaque. She’s on a plaque because the first winter after they went to a computer system there was a 3-day blizzard. The whole city shut down. Even the utility workers had to give up and go home before they got snowed in. But Mary wouldn’t leave. She stayed at the plant in that computer room and kept everything running so people would have electricity and water. She was there for six days before they could dig her out and relieve her.”

Felicity’s jaw snapped shut with a click, and she sat there in shocked silence. 

“That’s...amazing,” Caitlin breathed, her eyes wide. “Do you think it really could be her,” she asked Felicity.

Felicity shrugged, still in awe. “She said they raised their family in Central City so, yeah, it could be.” 

“Her picture is hanging next to the plaque. I’ll snap a photo tomorrow and send it to you,” Cisco promised, then happily dove back into his pizza. 

Felicity stared off into the distance for another moment. 

“You know what this means,” she said softly, as her friends’ eyes drifted to her. “Miss Mary was a badass.”


	15. Chapter 15

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Oliver had already informed Carol the day before that he wouldn’t be in on Friday, so he allowed himself some extra time to sleep in. After breakfast he had skis to wax and a wonky binding on Thea’s board that she’d been bugging him to look at since the last time she’d used it. 

He was throwing things into a duffel when he got a text from his father; Walter had some more paperwork for him to sign at QC. Oliver’s fingers hovered above the phone screen, mulling over his options: He could rush over to do it now and try to take Felicity to lunch, or wait and go later in the afternoon and then swing by and get her for the drive to the mountain. 

He texted the latter option back to his dad, letting him know they’d be coming up to the Camp separately, then finished packing and wandered downstairs for lunch. 

————————————————————————

He pushed through the lobby doors into QC at 3:45 on the dot and waited for an elevator. Walter’s office was just one floor below the executive offices; they had agreed to meet at 4. He fished his phone out of his pocket and sent a message to Felicity to let her know he was in the building. 

CAN YOU STILL LEAVE AT 4:30?

Her text came back immediately.

THINK SO.

GREAT. SEE YOU SOON.

Oliver stowed the phone as he joined a group filing into a waiting car, thoughts of the weekend ahead making his stomach flip in anticipation. 

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Felicity got through her To Do list in record time, and was just straightening up her desk when Oliver appeared around the corner. He sidled into the room, his hands clasped behind his back and wearing that gorgeous navy pea coat. He smiled when she looked up at him. 

“Hey you.” His voice was incredibly soft and gentle. 

“Hi.”

“Ready to go?”

She smiled and nodded, rolling her chair back to stand up and gather her things. 

She thought he was going to offer his arm for a second, but he seemed to think better of it and they only walked side by side to the elevator. Felicity was grateful; as much as she liked holding his hand, there was no good scenario to come out of her co-workers finding out she was dating the son of the CEO. 

The elevator ride, however, was a different thing altogether: The car filled as they traveled down, forcing them to the back to make room, and Oliver’s hand crept to hers and opened in silent invitation. Felicity slipped her hand into his and shifted her weight toward him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. 

He leaned down and murmured, “I’ll follow you home, and then you can get your stuff and we’ll head up to the mountain.”

Felicity looked up at him and nodded, and for a second she thought he was going to close the distance between them and kiss her. But he stopped just short, grinning at her, as the elevator doors opened. 

He was still smiling down at her when they crossed the threshold of the elevator, their hands entwined. She had just looked away from Oliver with a smile on her face when she saw him, standing still among a sea of people in the lobby. 

Felicity froze. 

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Walter was as English as ever; Oliver usually enjoyed pushing his buttons to see if he could make the man crack, but today he was too busy thinking about Felicity, working somewhere in the building, to bother. Walter must have noticed something was different, because he paused, the pen he was about to hand to Oliver frozen in midair, and quirked an elegant eyebrow. 

“How are things, Oliver?”

“They’re good. Great actually, thank you for asking.” Oliver snatched the pen from his fingers cheekily without breaking eye contact. Walter nodded, studying him in thought. 

“Good.”

Oliver let his eyes travel over the document balanced on his knee; he had signed many of these since he’d turned 18, but he had never bothered to read them first. Now he did, flipping the first page up to scan the one behind it. A small frown crossed his face. 

“Signing this releases stock options purchased in my name for...what purpose? To sell?”

Walter leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers in front of his mouth in thought. 

“Yes. Sometimes the money is reinvested, other times it’s used for purchases.”

Oliver’s head was still tipped toward the paper, the pen making slow circles above the signature line as his mind worked. He glanced up at the CFO.

“Am I signing my rights away when I do this,” he asked then.

Walter shrugged faintly.

“Your signature just releases the stock. The next steps are taken by the company—“ he gestured to himself—“on your behalf, but technically you have complete control over what happens to the money.”

The two men sat and considered each other for a long moment before Oliver nodded again. He signed and dated the paper and handed the documents and the pen back across the desk.

“That’s good to know. Thanks, Walter.”

“You’re very welcome, Oliver.”

————————————————————————-

His first instinct when Felicity rounded her desk toward him was to offer her his arm, but something told him this was not the time or the place. However, once they were in the elevator, Oliver reached out for her and was rewarded when he felt her cool fingers caress his palm. With her cheek pressed against him he was overwhelmed with a need to kiss her, but contented himself with just looking at her and thinking about all the hours of the weekend they had to look forward to. 

Oliver was still smiling down at her, opening his mouth to tell her how happy he was, when she froze beside him and he almost walked right past her. He pulled up, frowning, and watched all the color drain from her face. 

“Felicity...” he breathed the question, thoroughly confused. His eyes flicked away from her and he scanned the lobby to see if he could find the problem. 

There were a lot of people headed in every direction, but all of them seemed to be swirling around a single man standing completely still just beyond the elevators. The dude was huge, imposing even in a casual polo and jeans, and he was staring right at Felicity. 

Before Oliver could open his mouth again to ask her what was going on, the man rubbed his hands together with a smile and began walking toward them. Felicity’s hand, still in his, was practically lifeless. 

“Felicity, hi. Nice to see you again.” He had a deep rich voice, and he was being as non-threatening as a guy his size could be. Oliver glanced down at Felicity. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, but she finally swallowed; her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before sound came out.

“Hi, John,” she said in a whisper. 

After a long moment of silence the man’s eyes flicked up to catch Oliver’s, and he held out a giant hand.

“John Diggle.”

Oliver took the offered hand and gave as good as he got, which was saying something.

“Oliver Queen.”

John’s eyes lifted to take in the soaring heights of the lobby. 

“Queen. As in...”

Oliver nodded once with a tight smile. John scrutinized him a moment longer and then nodded himself.

“Okay.”

The man’s eyes returned to Felicity, and very softly he said, “How are you? Everything been okay?” He seemed to be subtly checking on her well being. Felicity nodded at him but then dropped her eyes to her shoes. 

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

Oliver could feel the fear and tension rolling off of her, and it made him jumpy. He squeezed her hand, maybe to reassure them both. John glanced around the lobby again, like he was uncomfortable but trying not to show it.

“Well, it was good to see you, Felicity. Nice to meet you, Oliver.” 

“Bye John,” Felicity said softly. 

Oliver took the initiative and gently steered Felicity around him and away to the parking garage. She glanced back over her shoulder once, but said nothing. 

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When John Diggle stopped sleeping, he knew it was time to do more than just fill Felicity Smoak’s voicemail with pleading messages. He couldn’t really explain his need to know that she was safe, but he had felt the pull of protectiveness ever since the first time he’d laid eyes on her, huddled in a cold, overly-bright FBI interrogation room in Boston. 

She had been—in equal measures—terrified and angry, having been called in for questioning a day after Seldon was arrested. But while her outward appearance screamed “rebel badass”, you only had to hear her speak to understand how truly caring and intelligent this woman—girl—was. By the end of the interview John was hooked. 

Because she was so young, he made a special effort to keep in touch with her and update as often as possible on the case. She was fatherless, and thousands of miles from her mother, so it seemed natural to make sure she was eating and keeping up with school amidst the chaos of the investigation and trial. 

He knew he’d cracked through her facade the day she teased him over dinner at Big Belly Burger. John had recently started dating his ex-wife, and Felicity couldn’t seem to keep from ribbing him about it. Part of him wanted to take offense, but then he’d caught the flash of humor in her eyes and the shadow of a wicked grin, and decided to take it good-naturedly instead.

The more they looked into the activities of Cooper Seldon, the more John began to suspect that he wasn’t the creator of the algorithm that had wreaked havoc on the Department of Education. Seldon was smart, no question, but the sophistication of his electronic weapon blew the mind of every IT expert they’d consulted; this was on another level altogether, and the better he got to know Felicity, the more suspicious he became. 

She caved almost immediately when he confronted her, promising to turn herself in if it would lessen her boyfriend’s sentence. But John had seen a flash, just a tiny moment, of fear in Felicity’s eyes when she mentioned his name, and suddenly alarm bells were ringing in his brain. He’d spent enough time with the arrogant bastard to get a good idea about what kind of boyfriend he would be, and it left a bad taste in his mouth. 

John then made a decision that could’ve ended his career; he counseled her not to turn herself in, but instead testify against Seldon in exchange for immunity. He would never forget the look in her eyes when she realized that this was an option: It was a combination of panic and...hope. The relief on her face when he told her Cooper might go away for fifty years nearly broke his heart. 

It was that face he saw the night he got the call that Seldon had been released from prison and had gone dark. It was that face that came to him every time he closed his eyes to sleep after days of hearing nothing from her, so when he was given a three day assignment in Portland, John—with permission from his very pregnant wife—asked for an extra personal day, rented a car on his own dime, and drove to Starling City to check on Felicity Smoak. 

He found out her employer was Queen Consolidated with little trouble, and haunted the lobby for most of the day hoping to catch sight of her. She had gone back to being blonde before she left Boston, but he was not expecting the happy smile he saw on her face when she stepped out of the elevator: He’d never seen it before. 

She was holding hands with an extremely good looking guy, and the two of them looked like they were in their own little bubble of happiness. John watched that bubble pop as soon as Felicity caught sight of him; he almost held up his hands in defense against the panic and fear she began radiating when she recognized him. 

His relief at seeing her safe and sound overwhelmed his instinct to keep his distance and not spook her, and he approached her immediately. The boyfriend looked utterly confused and unsure whether or not to act to protect her. He seemed pretty fit, but John was not concerned with his own chances if the situation became physical. 

Despite his efforts to minimize his overwhelming presence, Felicity looked frozen in terror at the sight of him. John was both confused and hurt by this, because he had been under the impression that they had parted as friends when the trial ended and his time with her was over. Instinct told him to keep his cards close to his vest, in case the boyfriend wasn’t in the loop about Cooper, not to mention the countless voicemails he’d been leaving her. 

And the boyfriend turned out to be a Queen, which added a whole new level of interesting: John began to see the trouble Felicity might be in if Seldon showed up and outed her to her technology-rich employer, especially if she was dating the heir to the empire. 

He’d seen her, and verified that she was—for the moment—okay, so John smothered his desire to wrap her in his arms and carry her back to Boston where he could keep her safe until they could get a 20 on Seldon. She at least seemed to have this Oliver Queen guy, who looked like he could hold his own if there was a confrontation with the ex-con. 

John let them go, his hands fisting in frustration, and watched them walk away. But Felicity’s final glance at him was almost more than he could take. 

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Felicity would look back and recognize that moment—when her eyes met John Diggle’s in the lobby of QC—as the beginning of the end.


	16. Chapter 16

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Their walk to the parking garage was silent; Oliver stole glances at her the whole way, hoping she would look back at him and give him some clue—any clue—about what the hell had just happened. But Felicity stared straight ahead, her hand firmly in his. 

When they reached her car he waited for her to unlock it, then opened the door and helped her in. Felicity reached for the handle but he put a hand on the door to hold it still, then bent his knees and lowered himself into  
a half crouch until they were eye level. 

“Hey. You okay to drive? We can leave your car here for the weekend if not.”

Felicity’s fingers fell from the handle and both her hands found and gripped each other in her lap. 

“I’m fine.” It was the first thing she’d said since the lobby. Oliver licked his lips, watching a shiver go through her from the cold.

“Felicity...what—“ Her eyes flicked to his, suddenly desperate, and she cut him off.

“Oliver, please don’t ask me.”

There was a beat of silence as they stared at each other; Felicity broke first, her eyes dropping to study her tangled fingers. 

“Okay,” he agreed, a whisper. He reached up to caress her cheek with the backs of his fingers, bringing the ghost of a smile to her lips. 

Oliver stood and closed her door, then stepped back and watched her back out of her space and join the other cars leaving the parking garage for the day. 

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Felicity used the car ride to her apartment for a good, blubbering cry, the palm of her hand pressed against her mouth at every red light in case anyone was looking. Oliver was a few minutes behind her, so she had time to get to her place and clean herself up before he knocked on her door. 

As soon as she opened it he was inside with his arms around her, holding her close without a word. Felicity melted against him, letting him prop up her weight as she leaned into his warmth. But the relief threatened to bring back the tears, so as soon as the burning ache began in her throat she shifted away from him with a shaky sigh. 

“Let me get my bag,” she ground out, mortified at the rawness of her voice from all the crying. 

Ten minutes later they were on their way in Oliver’s car, a different, slightly older version of the luxury SUV they’d driven to the nursing home the Saturday before. Felicity stared out the window and thought about snow angels. 

Oliver pulled into the drive thru of a Big Belly without even asking; Felicity had to admit that her outlook on life was much improved on a full stomach. The roads had been fully cleared from last weekend’s snow, but as they drove out of the city new snow began to fall, forcing Oliver to slow down. 

“So how long have you been skiing?” Felicity finally felt like talking, but definitely NOT about John Diggle; deflection seemed like the way to go. 

“Since I was about 5, I guess. My grandfather ran QC back then, so my parents had more time for...stuff.” She could tell by ‘stuff’ he meant ‘me’. “Thea started as soon as she could walk because I was there to look after her.” Felicity thought about all the times she’d felt sorry for herself because she only had one present parent; it had never occurred to her that the alternative could be just as lonely.

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes before he continued. “There will be a couple of Board members and their wives up there this weekend too.” He glanced over at her. “But we don’t have to hang out with everyone if you don’t want to.”

Felicity nodded once, then studied the road ahead. 

“How far?”

“About an hour and a half. Maybe a little more if it keeps snowing like this.”

It was coating the road surface now, and Oliver made sure to stay in the tracks of the car in front of him as much as he could. The windshield wipers were necessary, but there wasn’t quite enough moisture on the windshield to keep them from scraping and squeaking as they worked. 

“I’m glad you’re driving,” she offered. “I had my fill of this trying to get to your house last weekend.” Oliver smiled but made no comment and kept his eyes on the road. 

“My friends think you’re crazy for signing up to take me skiing,” she went on. “They witnessed my last attempt.” Felicity rolled her eyes and tucked her feet up under her so she could turn her body toward him. 

“Tell me about your friends,” Oliver prompted, reaching out to adjust the heat coming from the vents.

“Caitlin and Cisco. We’ve been together since freshman year of college. They’re both working for Star Labs in Central City.” Felicity turned her head to watch the snow pelt the windshield in the gathering dark and sighed.  
“I miss them every day.”

They sat in silence for maybe half a mile, and then she spoke again.

“What about you? Who’s your bestie?” She said it with a little smile. Oliver sighed deeply, eyes on the road. 

“Tommy. My best friend since...well, my whole life. He died four years ago.”

Felicity caught her gasp and swallowed it, but her fingers reached out and caressed his sleeve. The corner of his mouth crooked up in silent acknowledgment of her gesture.

“It happened in college.”

“Stanford,” she interjected softly; he nodded once.

“Balcony collapsed at a party.” 

“I’m sorry.” It felt like a dumb, inadequate thing to say, but he nodded all the same.

“Lately I’ve mostly been hanging out with Mary.” He spared her a quick glance and a grin. “And you.” Felicity had been slumped comfortably over the arm of the seat, but she sat up straight with a start.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” She proceeded to tell Oliver the story Cisco had uncovered of Mary’s heroics at Star Utilities in the 60s; he was as impressed as she had been, and that topic led them to discuss technology upgrades they’d like to see at the nursing home, if Curtis’s idea made any headway with the QC Board. 

Silence had fallen over the car for a few minutes as Oliver concentrated on driving through the heavy snow; a line of taillights led off ahead of them in the darkness; headlights stretched back as far as Felicity could see. 

She turned to look at Oliver as his mouth opened to speak, and that’s when the car began to skid. 

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It was fully dark by now and snowing very hard, but Oliver assured her they were only 20 minutes from the Camp. They were in a long line of traffic traveling up to the mountain, weekenders like them. 

Faced with the prospect of spending another weekend begging his sister with his eyes not to tell Felicity why he was spending so much time at the nursing home, or—even worse, listening to his father do it—Oliver decided this was the moment to come clean about the community service.

He had just opened his mouth to speak when the back end of the car got loose. He heard Felicity gasp once, but otherwise she sat silently as he worked to steer the big car out of the fishtail they were caught in. Every time he thought he’d wrestled it straight the back of the car would whip the other way; Oliver kept his foot off the pedals, continually turning the front wheels in the direction he wanted them to be going. 

They fishtailed a total of six times before the SUV finally straightened out and came back under his control. Somehow they had managed to avoid the cars in front of them and behind them, and had not met any oncoming vehicles either. 

Oliver expelled a giant breath, staring out the windshield for several seconds as he got his heart rate under control. 

“You alright,” he asked quietly, not daring to take his eyes off the road. 

“Thanks to you,” Felicity replied with a sigh. “I’m actually a little car sick, to be honest.” She let out a breathless laugh in the darkness, and Oliver responded with a tight smile. 

The elevation changed dramatically as they approached the ski resort; traffic slowed as non-4 wheel drives struggled on the snowy roads. Cars were also beginning to peel off into different housing complexes, which made it difficult for the line of vehicles to get moving again. Snowplows roared past, throwing snow ahead of them, dropping salt behind. 

Their road finally appeared in the darkness, and Oliver crawled up the unplowed lane, evergreens crowding them from both sides and all but smothering out the black sky above. The lane bent once, sharply, and then widened out to a snowy courtyard where two other SUVs sat covered in snow below a large chalet-style house with lights blazing from a wall of windows. 

Oliver pulled the car into a parking spot and cut the ignition with a sigh. 

“Well, we made it.”

Felicity was silent beside him, so he put a hand out to squeeze her forearm. 

“You okay,” he asked softly. She nodded, but didn’t look his way. 

“This day has been...a lot.”

Oliver huffed a laugh. 

“Agreed. Let’s go relax for a bit.”

He climbed out of the car, retrieved his duffle and slung it over his head, then hefted her bag in one hand and reached for her with the other. They climbed the steps up to the big house together.

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Every time the car’s back end whipped around Felicity knew they were going into the ditch; every time Oliver managed to save it. She was shocked to silence, her fingers gripping the armrests in terror. A corner of her mind wondered what the people in the cars immediately in front and behind them must be thinking. 

She lost track of how many times they fishtailed until the huge vehicle finally straightened out for good and Oliver could stop steering crazily. He let out a huge sigh, but otherwise drove on as if nothing had happened. Felicity, on the other hand, wanted to throw up. 

For the most part they drove the rest of the way in silence. It was completely dark at this point, the snow still coming down hard and the traffic slowing as they climbed higher. Every time taillights blazed in front of them Felicity tensed, sure that someone would cause an accident. Snowplows, on their mission to help, caused momentary chaos as they thundered past throwing snow and salt. 

By the time Oliver pulled off the main road, it was all she could do to keep from screaming. This day had been filled with drama and worry and not-great surprises; she was on sensory overload, at the end of her rope. The house above them, huge and lit up from within, was both the scariest and most wonderful thing she’d ever seen. 

Oliver pushed the front door open with her bag, pulling her behind him into a brightly-lit space with soaring ceilings and rustic elegance. It took her breath away. Her comment about not camping came back to her and would’ve been hilarious if she wasn’t so strung out. 

Oliver slowed and leaned down to her. “We’ll just say hi, and then get settled.” She nodded and he winked at her, dropping her bag and his next to each other. 

Felicity hardly had time to process that she was about to meet Oliver’s parents—her BOSSES—before they were standing at the entrance to the great room. There was a floor-to-ceiling fireplace made of river rock, a fire blazing away merrily. Mr and Mrs Queen and two other couples sat around the room in casual conversation; everyone looked relaxed and happy. Thea was nowhere in sight. 

Robert Queen was the first one to see them, standing to cross the room. Oliver was still holding her hand; the other he stuffed in his pocket, and she felt him tense beside her. 

“You two made it. Is it getting bad out there?”

Oliver started to answer, but his father ran right over the top of him, introducing himself to Felicity and reaching for her hand. She had to let go of Oliver to accept his handshake; he leaned in to kiss her cheek. Moira was right behind him, and she ran a hand down Oliver’s arm in greeting before grasping both of Felicity’s hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Felicity. Welcome.”

Felicity smiled politely, but there wasn’t much left in her for more. The other two couples were introduced to her, their names blurring together in her brain, and then Oliver had a hand on her shoulder, turning her toward the stairs and their waiting bags. 

Moira followed behind them.

“Oliver, with the Chapman’s and the Dorsey’s here, we’re a little short on guest rooms. Felicity can bunk with Thea and Olivia.” 

Oliver nodded as he hefted the bags again, leading the way up the stairs. 

The upstairs hall had an open, railed section that looked down over the kitchen on one side and the great room on the other; halls full of doors led off in either direction from this “bridge”. They crossed over it to the bedrooms on the far side, and Oliver chose the first door on the left. 

The bedroom was a good size with its own bath; Oliver dropped both bags on the floor. 

“This is me; it can be you too, if you want.”

Felicity stared up at him, momentarily speechless. 

“But, I thought...”

“There’s a bunk room at the end of the hall, for the times we have big groups up here. Thea will be in there this weekend, and Olivia, the Chapman’s daughter. They go to prep school together, and they hate each other.” He flashed her a tight smile. “But if you want to stay with me, they won’t tell.”

Despite wanting to ask if he knew this from experience, Felicity remained silent. Oliver squatted down to pull a shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his bag, then straightened. 

“I feel like I need to shower after that drive. You okay out here, or would you like to go see Thea?” He waited, seeming without expectation, while she thought about it. 

“I’d like to stay...for now,” she finally managed, and he nodded. 

“I won’t be long.”

He let her use the bathroom first, then disappeared behind the door himself. A minute later she heard water running, and then the shower start. 

Felicity sat on the bed to pull off her shoes with a sigh. She was mentally exhausted but far from sleepy; it would be awhile before she was ready for sleep, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. She didn’t think she could handle socializing with teenagers at the moment, even the kind that sat in silence on their phones. 

She bit her lip and listened to the shower running; imagined Oliver in there, getting ready for the night, and maybe thinking about the prospect of spending it with her. 

He had been amazing all day. She could still feel the caress of his fingers on her cheek, soothing her without needing to know why the sight of John Diggle made her upset. And she had never seen anyone as cool under pressure as he had been behind the wheel, keeping them safe. 

Suddenly she wanted him, all of him, to show him how much he had come to mean to her. To let him continue to heal her tattered spirit. 

She almost let herself into the bathroom, but hesitated and chose instead to change out of her clothes and into a tee shirt of his she snagged off the top of his bag. It was huge on her, stopping mid-thigh. Felicity shot a look at the bathroom door when she heard the shower stop; she took a deep breath and shimmied out of her underwear.

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The look of her, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his tee shirt, stopped Oliver’s heart. He actually froze a step, blinking to make sure she was real. She bit her lip, as if calculating the effect she was having on him. 

“Is this okay,” she asked, standing up to come to him, her fingers twisting together self-consciously. 

He swallowed hard, not sure how to answer.

“Is this okay with you?” Oliver turned the question around, letting her come all the way up against him without touching her. He desperately wanted her to say yes, but he also knew she’d had a hell of a day, and he was terrified she was doing something she might regret later. 

Felicity’s hands came up to lay on his chest, then she rose up on her toes to push her arms around his neck and pull him down to her. His hands went out to steady her, and found the shirt had pulled up so far it barely covered her ass. As he dipped his head to kiss her he let his hands drop below the shirt’s hem and groaned into her mouth when he found her bare below the waist. 

“Jesus, Felicity,” he ground out against her lips. “Are you sure?” He pulled back to look her in the eye, his fingers smoothing the shirt down over her backside. “Because I will wait if you don’t want to go all the way, but I really fucking need you right now, and you have to tell me what to do.”

“Oliver, I’m sure.” She looked him right in the eye, open and honest. “I need you.” He cut off the end of her sentence when he swooped in to kiss her, hard and deep. She moaned as he dropped his hands under her ass and lifted her up, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. 

“Fuck,” he growled, feeling the heat of her center press against his growing hardness. He took two steps toward the bed, pausing long enough to rip the covers back and send the decorative pillows flying, before planting a knee on the mattress and laying her down beneath him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couldn’t keep ElementSiren hanging! This seemed complete all on its own; I’ll put Felicity’s POV in the next chapter. Enjoy!

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Oliver Queen lost his virginity the summer after he turned fourteen in his prep school’s baseball dugout. The name of the girl was lost to the past, but at the time he had been obsessed with her. She attended a rival school, and he only saw her a few times every school year, when their teams would meet for whatever sport he was playing. 

Though he wasn’t a great scholar, he was an avid learner of this particular subject, undaunted by that first fumbling and faintly embarrassing encounter, and he was delighted to find no end of girls interested in catching his attention and, ultimately, helping him study. His technique improved just as fast as his looks, and by the time he left for college he had garnered quite a reputation with the opposite sex. 

Looking down at Felicity, lying back on the bed in his Breckenridge tee shirt and nothing else, her hair fanned out across his pillow, he knew he would give it all back to be able to experience sex again for the first time with her. 

Oliver paused to shuck his newly-donned shirt, his abs contracting on instinct when her eyes roamed over his torso. He shifted back off the bed long enough to lock the bedroom door and retrieve a strip of condoms from his duffle, which he tossed on the nightstand before crawling back toward her. 

Felicity’s eyes flicked over the number of condoms on display and her eyebrows went up in amusement.

“I’m an optimist,” he chuckled, his fingers already seeking the hem of her shirt. Felicity obligingly raised up enough for him to pull the shirt off over her head, and at long last he was looking at all of her at once. 

It took his breath away. 

He used his palms to gently part her knees and push her legs flat onto the mattress. His eyes were on her face the entire time, waiting for a sign that she was uncomfortable or unwilling, but the expression he got back was open, anticipating. It made his heart thump in his chest to know that she trusted him so much. 

Oliver let his hands wander down the soft skin of her inner thighs, watching her eyes close and her head drop back as he reached her center. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous—for the first time since he was, what, sixteen?—that he wouldn’t be what she expected. What she needed.

“Felicity,” he breathed, pushed by an overwhelming need to let her know how he felt before the message could be interpreted through the lens of physical release. She opened her eyes to look at him, steady and serene.

“I love you.”

Felicity blinked at him twice while she digested his words. She didn’t say it back—and he wasn’t looking for her to—but she smiled softly and held out a hand for him which he met with his own, intertwining their fingers and letting her pull him down over her until their lips could meet. 

If all he could do was kiss her, he would do it forever and not complain, but precious things were currently on offer, and he was determined to partake. His mouth drifted down over her body, an audit of Felicity 101; tonight he was here to sample, leaving a more detailed study for another time, perhaps alone in her apartment and not under the same roof as his entire family. And their friends.

He backed off the bed slowly until his knees were on the floor, at the same time sliding his hands under her ass and pulling her toward him in one smooth motion. She gave a little whoop! of surprise all the same, then giggled at herself. The end of her laughter turned into a moan of pleasure as he dipped his head to taste her, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he lifted her hips to meet his mouth. 

Felicity wriggled against him and sighed, her fists bunching in the sheets as he stroked her with his tongue, taking his time to learn every curve and fold of her. Her back arched in pleasure when he teased the swollen bud of her clit, her breathy moans making his dick twitch in reply. 

Oliver pulled one hand out from under her far enough to slide a thumb against her entrance. Her moans changed to more urgent yeses, and he lifted his head long enough to shush her gently with a chuckle. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, a distracted smile playing across her features as he took a moment to stroke a thumb up through her folds and rub a circle against her clit. 

“S’okay,” he assured her, a gravelly whisper just before he went back to work; one long finger slipped inside her as he sucked.

He really didn’t mind if it took all night; after one taste he was totally addicted to her, and knew he would think about doing this every time he looked at her, forever. But Felicity apparently had other ideas, because—though she was still making encouraging noises and running her hands through his hair—she slid them down to his shoulders and tugged at him gently, wanting him to let up. Oliver moved immediately, helpless to resist her wishes, though he was far from finished exploring. 

“Was that alright,” he asked, hovering above her and trying to read her thoughts. 

“God, it was amazing,” she sighed, still pulling on his arms to get him positioned where she needed him. “It’s just not going to, you know, happen tonight.” 

She licked her lips, maybe nervous about his reaction, and he suddenly wanted to kiss her again, but he wasn’t sure if she would want that after where he’d been; some girls didn’t. 

Felicity’s fingers slipped under the elastic of his sweatpants, questing after him, and he swallowed hard. 

“You’re sure,” he ground out, not sure himself how he could stand it if she said no at this point.

“Please, Oliver,” she whined, her fingers finding him inside his pants and making him shudder with need. In one move he pushed back off the bed and dropped his sweats, stepping out of them and grabbing the strip of condoms. Meanwhile, Felicity scooted back across the bed to give him more space. The crinkle of a foil packet was the only sound in the room for two breaths, his movements sure as he rolled the condom on and shifted back over her. 

His fingers found her again, and two dipped inside to make sure she was ready for him. Felicity’s hands were back on his biceps, stroking him with her fingertips until he shivered. Oliver lined himself up at her entrance and pushed gently. 

As soon as he met resistance he stopped to pull back and try again, even more carefully. She was still encouraging him forward so he pushed further, holding his breath to try to keep some modicum of control. 

Felicity stiffened beneath him and her face, eyes closed, screwed up in pain for a second. It was just a brief flash of emotion, but he immediately froze, whispering her name, asking for guidance. 

She opened her eyes and studied him, and a corner of his mind wondered what he must look like, dead still, essentially planking above her with his dick halfway inside her. He was ready to ask if she wanted to stop when her mouth opened.

“Oliver. I love you.”

She lifted her hips and hauled on his arms, and before he could process her words he was all the way in, buried in her velvety warmth, and she was sighing.

“Oh God,” he groaned, overwhelmed by sensation and wondering how he would ever last. Felicity’s legs came up to wrap around the backs of his thighs, and the shift in the angle of her pelvis pulled him in further. 

He let out a breathless string of curses and began snapping his hips against her. 

She was gorgeous below him, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, encouraging him with her gasps and sighs and yeses. He forgot his reluctance to put his mouth on her and dove down to claim her in a desperate, sloppy kiss; she responded in kind, arching off the bed to meet him halfway. 

He was inside her but she was everywhere: Her wanton moans in his ears, her ragged breaths on his cheek, her nails digging into his shoulders, then sliding down to sink into his ass and spur him on. 

The sounds she made were becoming more desperate, closer to the edge, and for the life of him Oliver couldn’t bring himself to care if anyone—or everyone—heard them. 

Felicity’s moans peaked and he thought she was there; he let go of the tight rein he’d had on his body to let himself finish, realizing too late that she had not actually come. His orgasm claimed him, snapping his head back and making him groan. 

She was there with him the whole way down, still moaning and sighing, her nails retracted but her palms still riding his ass, still encouraging his thrusts, sporadic though they had become. 

“Fuck,” he sighed, his brain void of anything that wasn’t a swear word. “Holy shit, Felicity.” 

She chuckled beneath him, her eyes closed and her head lolling. She squeezed her Kegels once, hard, and a surprised laugh left him. 

“What was that for,” he asked with a breathless chuckle, his abdominals straining as he held his weight off of her.

“Inside hug,” she purred, and he laughed again. Oliver kissed her once more, long and slow, feeling himself softening inside her all the while. He finally pushed up and locked his arms straight, pulling out of her with a sigh. She moaned in protest but let him go. 

When he came back from the bathroom she had rolled onto her side away from him, the sheet pulled part way over her but leaving a tantalizing amount of skin visible. Oliver crawled into bed behind her, lifting the sheet to cover them both as he scooted up against her. Her eyes were closed, her mouth in a blissful smile; he carded his fingers through her hair and watched her exist.

“Go pee,” he finally whispered in her ear, not wanting her to fall asleep and run the risk of trouble later. She groaned but slid out of bed, tiptoeing around the end on the way to the bathroom; Oliver rolled onto his back and rested an arm behind his head, reluctant to let her out of his sight. 

He allowed his eyes to close while he waited, the release of tension making him sleepy. But they opened to slits to watch when she reappeared, scooping up the discarded shirt and diving back into it before she scrambled under the sheet. He rolled toward her and she met him face to face, an arm pillowing her head. 

Oliver threaded his fingers through her hair again, fascinated by it, freed from its signature ponytail. 

“Did you...finish,” he asked, not sure how to say it without sounding somewhat crude. She frowned softly and shook her head in confusion before she caught on. 

“Did I...? Oh. No.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “But that’s not your fault,” she added quickly. “That’s just me. Don’t worry about it.”

Oliver studied her face, still stroking her hair. He let his hand drift down to cup her cheek, and Felicity immediately closed her eyes and leaned into his hand with a happy sound. 

“Is there something else you need, something I didn’t do?” He hated to admit how much it bothered him that he had gotten off but she didn’t. Felicity’s eyes focused somewhere over his shoulder, and she looked like she was searching for the right words. 

“Oliver, it’s...complicated. But the short answer is no, there’s nothing you need to do differently. Just be patient with me.” She pushed forward to kiss him once, gently. “And don’t worry. Okay?” She stared at him until he smiled, then burrowed into his chest and threw an arm over him with a happy sigh. 

“Okay,” he whispered.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay: I’m knee deep in A Dance with the Devil as well, and it is harder than I thought to switch back and forth between smut and psychopaths! 
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

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It was in the spring of their senior year that Caitlin and Cisco set her up on the blind date. Ray Palmer was a grad student, living in the apartment next door to Cisco. He’d lost his fiancée a year prior, and they—her sweet but meddling friends—had concluded he was finally ready to get back on the horse, sexually speaking. 

Felicity had protested that she wasn’t really into being someone’s post-tragedy booty call, but she had to admit she was a bit curious and agreed to meet him, if nothing else.

What followed was a one night stand. Three of them, to be precise. Neither of them were interested in a relationship, and once they’d finished swapping funny Cisco stories over take out they discovered they had not one other thing in common. 

Except sex, apparently.

Ray might be goofy, but he was hot as hell, and well versed in the bedroom. He was also a good teacher, and a complete gentleman. Felicity learned more in a few hours with him than she had in all the months she’d been with Cooper. 

They laughed a lot; for the first time she felt comfortable enough to ask questions, to ask for feedback. And more importantly, she felt safe giving feedback of her own. Ray was happy to adjust his technique, to experiment if necessary, but always with a mind to bringing her pleasure. 

Oral sex, it turned out, was one of his specialties. Cooper had never been interested—unless she was giving it to him—finding it distasteful, so she was understandably nervous when Ray offered. But Felicity became a true believer under his ministrations, her eyes opened to a whole new world of sensations. 

It was Ray who explained to her that she wasn’t weird or broken if she didn’t have an orgasm during intercourse; his Anna never had either. Romance novels were entertaining, he’d chuckled, but not always terribly accurate. Luckily, he could show her other ways to climax, and by their third night together he’d succeeded in making her come hard enough that Cisco had complained about the noise the next morning. 

They were always at his place, since he didn’t have a roommate, and they had agreed from the beginning she would never spend the night; he always walked her home, always kissed her cheek, and always wished her a good night. 

They might have gone on like that indefinitely, but right before graduation Ray got a job offer and left the Commencement ceremony directly for the airport. They didn’t exchange numbers, never promised to keep in touch. It was a temporary arrangement, and they were both perfectly fine with that. 

Felicity had every reason to be grateful to Ray Palmer for giving her the tools to know when she was ready for sex, and to be confident about asking for what she wanted, but—not surprisingly—as she lay naked on the bed watching a shirtless Oliver Queen crawl toward her, Ray was the last thing on her mind. 

His hands were warm as they slid between her knees, encouraging her legs to part; she watched his eyes as he looked at her, like a man suddenly given everything he’d ever wanted. It was a heady feeling, knowing her body carried that much power. 

Her eyes closed as he slid his hands downward, skimming closer to her center, but before he made contact she felt him pause.

He whispered her name and she opened her eyes to look at him; Oliver looked...nervous. Or at least hesitant. 

“I love you,” he said softly. Felicity blinked at him, processing, reveling in the sounds those words made coming out of his mouth. She smiled and held out a hand, momentarily speechless. 

His kisses were soft, reverent, not hurried but not lingering either; the man had an objective, and he would not be sidetracked. She felt the mattress lift as his weight left it, and suddenly his hands were under her, pulling her toward him and the edge of the bed all at once. She made a noise of surprise and giggled, but any further commentary was wiped away when his mouth found her.

It had been awhile—a long while—and even though she was perfectly capable of pleasuring herself, there was nothing like the feel of well-practiced tongue; Felicity squirmed with pleasure. He took his time to learn every inch of her, stroking through her folds like a master. When he reached her clit she almost came up off the bed.

He rubbed a thumb against her, seeking entrance, and all thoughts of anyone else being in the house—or the universe in general—went right out the window. Oliver shushed her gently, but she could tell he was very pleased with himself. 

He slid a finger inside her and doubled the sensations, simultaneously filling a need and creating an entirely new one. The long smooth strokes just made her want the rest of him more. Felicity knew her body well; with everything that had happened over the last few days and the newness of her relationship with Oliver, she was not in the right headspace for an orgasm tonight. 

She signaled that she wanted him to stop and Oliver left off immediately, his eyes searching her face as he came up over her for reassurances that she was okay; that it had been okay. She watched his reaction when she told him an orgasm for her was not going to be in the cards; she didn’t want to disappoint him, or make him think he wasn’t good enough. 

Felicity reached for his waistband, desperate for him to be inside her. He hesitated, still so concerned that she might not be completely willing, and his stalling was both endearing and frustrating; she was not above begging at this point.

Finally, FINALLY she convinced him that she was ready—more than, as she backpedaled across the bed to make room for him—and welcomed him over her with her breath held in anticipation. Oliver pushed two fingers inside her gently to gauge her readiness, then pulled back and aligned himself against her. 

He was amazingly considerate as he entered her, giving her time to stretch around him, stopping and readjusting his angle, so incredibly gentle. But it had been awhile for her, and he was big, and she couldn’t help the flash of discomfort that crossed her face as he continued to push. 

“Felicity.” It was just the breath of a whisper.

Oliver went completely still above her, holding his weight on his forearms as he watched her face, waiting for her to tell him what to do. Felicity looked into eyes that were drowning in need and uncertainty as he looked back into hers, and suddenly she...knew. 

“Oliver,” she breathed. “I love you.”

He was still processing—she could tell—when she took matters into her own hands and guided him home in one swift move. She sighed at the sensations; the pain and the fullness and the feeling that she was finally complete. When she threw her legs around him and readjusted her angle he slid in further with a strangled groan.

Felicity would’ve chuckled at the look on his face, but suddenly he was moving inside her, overwhelming her senses with his body inside hers. For the next few minutes all she could do was hold on, clinging to him, encouraging him, kissing his hungry, desperate mouth. She let herself make noises, telling him how much she loved it with her moans and sighs. 

His rhythm changed along with his sounds of pleasure, and she knew he was ready: She made sure her eyes were open to watch his climax claim him, snapping his head back with its force. 

Felicity stayed with him through his release, still wanting as many thrusts as he could give her before his body gave out, stretching up to lavish kisses along his throat as he sighed and swore under his breath at the sensations. 

She finally fell back on the mattress with a little laugh, quite satisfied with everything. Just for fun she contracted her pelvic floor muscles against him in a tight, fierce hug that made him laugh breathlessly in surprise. 

A long, slow, deep kiss later he was pulling out of her and heading to the bathroom; Felicity rolled onto her side, sleepy and content—and would’ve been happy to forget everything and stay there forever—but he quite rightly prodded her to look after herself before she fell asleep for good. She returned to him and immediately burrowed against his warmth in search of sleep. 

———————————————————————

Felicity awoke at a little after 1am. The overhead light was still on, and she was still in Oliver’s bed. She groaned in concern and tried to shift away from him, unsure what to do, but he rolled with her, wrapping her up with one muscled arm and pulling her back into him.

“Stay,” he mumbled, nuzzling into her hair and sighing, already going back under. Felicity nodded her agreement against his head but straight-armed her way out of his embrace, kissing his forehead lightly when he grumbled. 

She washed her face and brushed her teeth, then flipped off the light and crawled back into bed and his waiting arms.


	19. Chapter 19

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Oliver awoke in a tangle of limbs, as happy as he could ever remember being. Felicity was still dead to the world, so entwined with him he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. He couldn’t see the clock, but his body—newly adjusted to being a responsible adult—told him it was time to be up. 

After a moment of sorting, he was able to pull away from her enough to roll over: 6:35, on the dot. Lifts opened at 8am on the weekends, and if this was like every other ski weekend of his entire life, his father would be banging on his door any minute to roust him out of bed; the man loved to ski open to close. 

With one more glance at Felicity he slid out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. He brushed his teeth—in case his mother was up—and slipped out to pad down the hall and peek over the second floor hall railing at the kitchen. Robert Queen was the only one there. 

“Morning,” Oliver said quietly, heading straight for the instant oatmeal and a banana. 

“Sleep well,” his father asked, as Oliver studiously kept his back to him, working on his oatmeal with the speed and precision one might use while working with dynamite, all the while trying to decide if the question had been asked sincerely, or if the entire household had, in fact, heard them having sex. 

“I did,” he replied to the counter. “You?”

“I always sleep better in the mountains. Three inches of new snow last night.”

“Sweet.” Oliver turned back with his breakfast, still finding very interesting things to look at that weren’t his father. 

“Does your girl ski?”

“She does not.” He made his way around the island and straddled a bar stool close—but not too close—to Robert. “We’ll just eat at the lodge for lunch.”

His father nodded into his sip of coffee; all fell silent. 

Oliver wolfed his breakfast in record time, and was rinsing the bowl before Robert spoke again. 

“You’re in a hurry this morning.”

“Just need to get back to, ah, to get dressed. I fixed that binding for Thea,” he added, already around the corner, desperate to get away before he actually slipped up and said Felicity’s name. 

She was still asleep when he got back into the room; he had a powerful need to climb into bed and make love to her all morning, but he knew he didn’t dare. Instead he crawled onto the mattress, staying chastely above the covers, and leaned over to nuzzle her ear. 

“Good morning,” he whispered, chuckling as she burrowed away from him with a growly sound. 

“More sleep,” she mumbled into the pillow. Oliver backed off the bed with a grin and grabbed his base layers out of the dresser.  
He rinsed off in the shower and dressed in the dry fit and spandex, throwing the tee and sweats back on over it before moving to the far side of the bed and crouching next to the wild tangle of Felicity’s blonde hair. 

“Hey,” he whispered, nudging her shoulder and giving the top of her head a kiss. “I’m going downstairs to make you breakfast. You have fifteen more minutes, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Ungh,” was the reply he got, so he nudged her again until he heard a muffled “Up in fifteen,” and he was satisfied she meant it. 

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Felicity poked her head out of the covers blearily, one eye opened a crack in order to check the alarm clock: 7:20. She blinked both eyes a few times and yawned, then rolled out of bed. She let out a tiny “yow” as she padded across the floor, still a little sore from last night’s activities, but quite pleased all the same. 

She had planned to shower and dress before anyone else in the house saw her, but the smell of breakfast cooking changed her plans. With a quick trip to the bathroom and a hoodie thrown over the pjs that had never made it out of her overnight bag last night—blush—she slipped out the door and down the hall. 

The scene below her in the kitchen was terrifying—everyone was up and milling about already—but she was starving, and fascinated by the picture of Oliver Queen cooking breakfast. She crept down the stairs and peeked around the corner, hoping no one would notice her presence until she’d had a chance to watch him. 

Oliver was in sweats and a tee shirt with a base layer poking out underneath. He was also barefoot, and in constant motion as he managed a waffle iron, a skillet of bacon, and an omelet. Behind him the toaster oven emitted tendrils of steam as it toasted English muffins. His mother stood just to his right, pouring juice and laughing at something her husband said. 

Felicity tangled her fingers together in front of her, a funny ache filling her chest: This is what she’d never had growing up. Her mom was great—she loved her mom—but it had only been the two of them against the world. Her childhood had been a constant stream of microwave meals and putting herself to bed because her mother worked three jobs to keep them afloat. Just the thought of someone making her breakfast in a warm bright kitchen made her misty eyed. 

Oliver turned toward the fridge for something and she caught his eye; he hurried over to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Good morning,” he said, bright and charming, as if they hadn’t spent the night tangled together under his covers. He motioned with his head for her to join them before diving into the fridge for more eggs. 

Felicity responded to the chorus of good mornings with a little wave, settling onto a bar stool and tucking her hair behind her ear with one hand. A glass of orange juice was passed down the bar to her, and Felicity peeked over the glass as she sipped, surreptitiously watching the faces around her. 

Thea and Olivia were sitting next to each other but not talking. Thea looked relaxed and happy; Olivia was a pretty girl with a hella bad case of Resting Bitch Face. Robert Queen was dressed in his base layers too, the opposite of every photo she’d ever seen of him, including the large oil portrait hanging in the hall of the Executive offices at QC. Moira was assisting Oliver with breakfast, but in a way that made it clear he was running the show. She looked happy too.

Their other guests laughed and joked, all of them immersed in various stages of their meal. When her eyes came back to Oliver he was looking at her, the hint of a smile on his face. 

“Waffle? Omelet? Or just regular eggs?” He winked at her. “We’re full service.”

Felicity blushed, feeling like they were the only people in the room. 

“Waffle?” 

Oliver nodded, eyes back on his task.

“Coming right up.”

Thea hopped off her stool, finished with breakfast, and stopped at her shoulder to say hi. Felicity caught Oliver’s eyes flicking to the two of them, conscious of the fact that, if she had spent the night with the girls like everyone assumed, there would be no reason for them to be greeting one another now. But Thea merely patted her arm and told her where she could find the spare ski clothes when she got done eating. 

Felicity breathed an internal sigh of relief and contented herself with watching Oliver work. He presented her with a waffle, and stood watching her eat until she gave him the stink eye, then turned away with a smirk. The houseguests began to drift away as they finished eating; Robert was on clean up duty, which he did with a smile. 

Just before Moira left the kitchen she pulled Oliver to the far side of the room and murmured something in his ear. Felicity watched him go still, his head lowered to better hear his mother. She rubbed his arm affectionately and he nodded, his face unreadable. Then she gave him a hug, and he banded an arm around her. Felicity looked away quickly, a little embarrassed about observing such a private moment. 

Her plate was clean by the time he moved to her end of the bar. He smiled at her gently and offered his hand, and even though she didn’t need help getting off the bar stool she took it anyway, just to have an excuse to touch him. 

They had just made it to Oliver’s room when Moira’s voice came from behind them. 

“How did you sleep last night, Felicity? I noticed the girls left you the top bunk.”

Felicity turned in slow motion, her eyes glancing off Oliver’s broad chest—she didn’t dare make eye contact with him—as she tried to formulate an answer. 

“I slept well, thanks.” Because she had. Specific geography wasn’t important, was it?

“I’m glad. If Thea doesn’t have something you need for skiing, let me know; I might have it.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, turning back around to face the end of the hall. Oliver had only nodded in the general direction of the girls’ bedroom last night—which door was it?! There were four doors to choose from, and she was too petrified to peek over her shoulder and see if Moira was still watching. 

Felicity squared her shoulders and set off: Confidence was the key here, right? She decided to pick a door and go through it, even if it turned out to be a linen closet.

Just as her brain was signaling her hand to begin reaching for a random doorknob, the door at the end of the hall opened and Thea’s head popped out.

“Oh thank god,” Felicity breathed, continuing forward until she’d reached the younger girl.

“I wasn’t sure you’d know where you were going,” Thea whispered as Felicity clutched her arm on her way past into the room. They closed the door together and Felicity fell back against it with a sigh.

“That. Was terrifying.” 

The room was enormous; four bunk beds were built into the walls on either side, each with its own reading lamp and curtain for privacy. The bedding of the two bottom bunks was everywhere, but one of the top bunks was messy as well; Thea must have done that, in case her mother came to check on them. 

A soft but urgent knock sounded against the door and Felicity opened it a couple of inches. Oliver was on the other side, her overnight bag in one hand.

“Oh,” she said softly, pulling the door wide so he could pass the bag through to her. He glanced back down the hall and then dived forward to give her one hard kiss. 

“You’re cute when you’re panicky,” he whispered with a grin, and then he was gone. 

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Oliver had never intended to make breakfast for the whole household, but Thea showed up while he was frying the first pan of bacon, and he felt compelled to keep her happy since she was (hopefully) going to cover for Felicity’s overnight absence. 

Olivia came next, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else on the planet; she hadn’t changed in that regard since she was in grade school. They both asked for waffles, so he got the iron out just as the adults began to filter in. 

Suddenly he was 18 again, showing off his culinary skills—which only extended to breakfast, honestly—with Tommy by his side doing hilarious play-by-plays and being only moderately helpful. There was the time they set off the smoke detectors, sending his parents—who didn’t happen to be up yet—into a frenzy. And the memorable morning they served breakfast in nothing but button down shirts and sunglasses because they’d watched Risky Business the night before. 

He was so immersed in his memories he only saw Felicity at the last minute, hovering near the fridge with her fingers twisted together, looking...lost? He swooped in to kiss her cheek and bring a smile out of her, and the bittersweet memories faded like the steam coming off the toaster oven. 

His mother must have been on the same wavelength throughout breakfast, because just before she left the kitchen she pulled him aside; Oliver was half-afraid this was going to be a gotcha about the sleeping arrangements, but he was wrong. 

“This morning reminded me of old times, with you and Tommy. We all miss him, Oliver. Thank you for bringing a piece of him with you up here.”

Oliver’s heart seized for just a beat, the reality of losing his best friend crashing over him again. But instead of backing away, as he might have—had done—in the past, he leaned into it, nodding, and let the hurt mix with the sweet memories he’d already been replaying in his head. Moira stretched up to pull him into a hug and he wrapped an arm around her, feeling closer to her than he had in...years.

“And thank you for making breakfast,” she whispered before she let go. 

His intention was to stop by his room to grab Felicity’s things and escort her to her rightful room before anyone caught on, but just as they reached his door he heard his mother’s voice. Felicity’s look of terror might’ve made him laugh if she’d made eye contact as she turned; as it was he had to school his face into perfect neutrality as they talked.

It occurred to him as she started down the hall that he had never actually told her which room was the bunk room; he held his breath as he waited for her to pick a door. Thea’s head poking out into the hall at the last minute was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

As soon as Felicity made it inside and his mother had turned away, Oliver ducked into his room to grab her bag and then pelted down the hall to return it to her. 

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“Here’s some pants, and take your pick of jackets. Oh, and socks! Can’t forget those.” Thea was shoving a ridiculous amount of gear at her, rummaging through a walk-in closet and a chest of drawers. “You have enough base layers?”

“I...I think so?” Felicity sorted through the pile in her arms and managed to identify a half-zip and a pair of leggings. 

The three girls dressed mostly in silence, Felicity peeking every once in awhile to make sure she was getting everything in the right order. Just as she was pulling on the ski pants a pair of house slippers slid across the room and tumbled to a stop nearby. 

“You’ll need these,” Thea added, sliding into a pair of her own and reaching for the bedroom door. Olivia was similarly dressed, and both girls waited for her to catch up. 

“Where are we going,” she asked, bewildered.

“You’ll see,” Olivia answered, mysteriously. It was the first thing she’d said all morning. 

They traveled downstairs and past the kitchen to a wide set of stairs that led down to a basement level with a huge family room: Felicity saw a pool table, vintage arcade games, and a bar, for starters. At the back of the room Thea opened the door into a room filled with skis, boots, poles, and helmets. A huge workbench sat at one end, and cubbies with benches lined the walls. 

All the adults were in some stage of getting ready for the day; Felicity spied Oliver on the far side of the room, helping one of the ladies buckle her boots. 

“Wow...” she started to say, overwhelmed by it all. Olivia was already moving away to get her boots on, and Thea tapped Felicity on the arm and indicated a row of helmets on top of a set of cubbies. 

“These are extras.” She picked up one and then another, trying to gauge their size. She pointed at a bright pink one. “How about this one?” She wrinkled her nose. “I was going through a phase.”

“I love it,” Felicity gushed, unable to control the grabby hands she made at seeing her favorite color. Thea handed it over and she pulled it on, her eyes catching Oliver watching her from across the room with a funny smile on his face. 

She grinned at him as he approached, finding all of this—for the moment—very fun and exciting. Oliver was dressed in plain black pants and a charcoal colored jacket that emphasized his broad shoulders. Her thoughts suddenly turned from spending all day skiing to spending all day in his bed, and she had to look away before her expression gave her away. 

He came to a stop almost against her; in the flat slippers she had to tilt her head way back to see his face. Just as he was about to say something she felt a rush of cold air as an exterior door was opened; the first wave of skiers was headed out.

“We’re ski in/ski out here,” he explained quietly, “but we don’t have exactly the right skis and boots for you, so we’re going up to the lodge first.” He glanced back at the people still left in the room and then rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Let me make sure they’re all set, and then we’ll drive over.”

Felicity waited and watched, fascinated by the way he checked on everyone and helped any way he was needed, always patient and pleasant. She tried to reconcile this picture with her memory of Robert Queen chewing him out in the hall of the Executive Offices for anyone to hear; she had never told him she knew about that incident, and didn’t really want to. 

When everyone was on their way he guided her back through the basement—with a quick-yet-passionate kiss up against the bar—and upstairs to retrieve her snow boots.

In under ten minutes they were walking into a ski lodge, another new experience. Skiers clomped around, heel-toeing in big plastic boots like some kind of weird astronauts, dressed in every color of the rainbow. Oliver took her hand and led her up a set of stairs and into a retail shop, then straight to the back toward a counter with a sign above that read “Demos, Tuning and Waxing”.

“Oliver!” The chorus went up from several voices, most of which were behind the counter. Somewhere a radio was playing Fall Out Boy’s “Sugar We’re Going Down” so loud it made Felicity blink. There was a round of high fives and back slaps as the initial mention of his name brought additional people out to say hi. 

“What’s up, man? Don’t tell me you’re ready to replace those sweet Rosi’s already.”

“No, they’re great. We’re here—“

“Hi, Ollie.” 

Felicity, who up until that point had mostly been invisible behind Oliver’s back, peeked her head around his arm to put a face with the voice. A beautiful strawberry blonde with bewitching blue eyes and a cleft in her chin stood in the shop surrounded by the boys, arms crossed casually on the counter. Her hair was braided into loose pigtails that looked—at the same time—messy and perfect, and she wore a plain Henley unbuttoned slightly further down than was necessary during the day, but somehow managed to look perfectly natural on her.

“Hey Sara,” Oliver said softly, simultaneously pulling on Felicity’s hand to bring her up beside and then in front of him. He let go of her hand and placed it on her hip gently but possessively, the other resting on her shoulder, his body a solid presence against her back. “This is Felicity. She needs to demo some skis and boots.”

Felicity, suspecting—no, knowing—there was some history here, expected the usual once-over from a former girlfriend, but Sara’s eyes only shifted to lock gazes with her, and her half smile grew lopsided and friendly. 

“Nice to meet you, Felicity. Let’s see what we can find.”


	20. Chapter 20

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“It’s as simple as pizza and French fries.”

“Really? Because it feels like it’s going to be MUCH more complicated.”

Oliver chuckled as he looked down at the top of Felicity’s pink helmeted head, one hand under her arm as he half-dragged, half-skated her out into an open patch of snow beside the lodge. Her arms flailed wildly, the poles in her hands waving around and threatening anyone within range.

Just as he bent at the waist to adjust the cuffs of her ski pants over her boots there was a resounding crack against his head.

“Oh! Sorry!”

“No problem. That’s why we wear helmets.”

He straightened and put a hand out to steady her (and fend off the poles).

“Okay. So. French fries and pizza. French fries to go—“ he brought his skis parallel and pointing forward—“pizza to stop.” He pushed the tips together as the tails opened out behind him in the perfect imitation of a slice of pizza. “To slow down, lean forward.” Oliver brought his skis parallel again and slid a few feet away so she could see, then tucked forward to show her how to slow herself. He finished his demo by making a pizza wedge and coming to a stop, then turned himself around and motioned for her to join him. 

“French fries, and go!” 

Felicity, unmoving, brought her hands to her hips, her poles hilariously akimbo. 

“Oliver, I did really well in Physics. You don’t slow down by leaning forward.”

“Well, you do in skiing. Come on, baby.”

She sighed heavily but straightened her skis and started sliding forward, a high pitched squeal accompanying her journey. She picked up a tiny bit of speed over the gradual slope, her eyes becoming wide with panic as she neared him.

“Too fast! Too fast! Help help help,” she squeaked, her arms—and those killer poles—beginning to pinwheel wildly. Oliver was ready, his arms outstretched, as she veered closer. 

“I gotcha. I gotcha, honey,” he soothed, pulling her into him as her skis slid in between his and she crashed against him in slow motion. 

“That was terrible,” she grumbled against his chest, her legs sliding around looking for purchase as he had most of her weight in his arms. 

“It was not,” Oliver countered. “That was great. But we’re going to make an adjustment.” He looked up to scan the crowd of humanity, and found a friendly face.

“Buster! Hey! C’mere a sec.”

The floppy haired snowboarding instructor was sliding by but pulled up at his request. Oliver untangled the wrist straps and removed the poles from Felicity’s hands. He handed both poles to Buster.

“Could you run these back to the shop the next time you’re up here? Thanks, man.”

“No prob. Have fun.”

He continued on, the poles in one hand, and disappeared over the hill.

“Tell me his given name isn’t really Buster,” Felicity muttered, bracing herself against his arms and looking up at him. 

“I wish I could,” Oliver chuckled. “Okay. We’re trying it again, without the poles. You don’t need them yet anyway.”

As he suspected, Felicity’s confidence improved quickly without the poles to worry about, and he could concentrate on her and not on constantly avoiding death-by-accidental-stabbing. They made their way down the faintly sloped hill, practicing starting and stopping, and then worked on turns. 

When they reached the end of the easiest part of the hill he would turn them both around and offer her the end of his ski pole to grab, then skate back to the top with long powerful strides, pulling Felicity behind him while she squealed with delight. 

“Okay, that part is really fun,” she gushed breathlessly the second time, making him grin.

“Wait until you try the ski lift,” he teased, and then watched her eyes go wide in horror.

“Ohhhh, no. Nope.” Felicity waved her mittened hands in front of her to ward him off and Oliver laughed out loud.

“Well, we’re not ready for that yet. We’ve been out here about an hour. How ‘bout some hot chocolate.”

“Umm, yes please!” Her eyes lit up and he bent to kiss her, both their lips cold and dry as they made contact.

“Get a room,” someone catcalled nearby, and Oliver—recognizing the voice—removed his glove and good naturedly flipped the person off without looking, or letting up on the kiss. 

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Felicity was prepared to be awkward and unsure about skiing; her first time had been a disaster. She had not been prepared to be so self-conscious about it. The boots were heavy and clunky, she had to be helped into them like a child, and meanwhile, not only did everyone in the stinking lodge seem to know and idolize Oliver, they also appeared to be experts at all of this. 

“I don’t know,” she muttered under her breath, staring at the top of Oliver’s bowed head—a first—as he checked the fit of yet another ski boot. He glanced up at her.

“About the boots?”

“About skiing,” she corrected reluctantly, practically a whisper. It didn’t feel good to admit she was scared, but she didn’t want to waste his time either. Oliver paused to straighten at the waist, still on one knee in front of her like a Disney Prince. 

“Felicity,” he said, her name sliding off his tongue in that delicious way he had of making her feel like he was the first person to ever pronounce it correctly, “this part is always a pain, because we have to get the fit right or you’ll be miserable. Once we get outside it’ll be fun. I promise.”

Her eyes lifted to the shop and beyond into the lodge, watching people banging around in their big boots, coming and going with seeming ease. A little kid was actually running—how the heck was it possible to RUN in these things?

“But what if I fall down,” she whispered.

“Everybody falls down skiing. I still fall sometimes. It happens.” He didn’t get what she meant, and suddenly—humiliatingly— she could feel the pinprick of tears against her lower lashes. 

“No, I mean walking.”

He must have seen her eyes glistening, because he pushed to his feet and gathered her against him; she felt him plant a kiss on the top of her head. 

“This isn’t about skiing, is it,” he mumbled into her hair. Felicity sighed against him, then lifted her head to meet his eye.

“Everybody knows you here, you all know each other, and it’s going to be really obvious that I’m, well, terrible at all this.” She dropped her gaze to the middle of his chest. “It’s just...embarrassing.”

Oliver cupped her face with both hands and tilted it up to meet his. 

“I didn’t bring you here to embarrass you. I brought you here because I wanted to spend time with you, to share something with you that I love. Because I love you.”

He was whispering by the end; they were the only people in the universe, alone in a colorful, noisy swirl of humanity on a mountain. 

After a million years of staring into his eyes she finally nodded, breaking the spell, and he pulled back from her, his eyes dropping to the boots on her feet. 

“Let’s give these a try.”

————————————————————————

The boots had to come off so the skis could be set up correctly, then they had to go back on again; meanwhile, Oliver had to get himself ready. It was a time-consuming process. Felicity sat on a bench, her borrowed jacket and hot pink helmet next to her, and watched the flurry of activity in the shop. 

Sara—the only female as far as she could see—seemed to be in charge, or at least everyone treated her like she was. She never stopped moving, helping customers, adjusting bindings (the things that connected the boots to the skis—Felicity was learning fast), joking with her co-workers, and giving advice. 

For all the hustle and bustle it was a relaxed atmosphere, and Oliver seemed to fit in like he was part of the staff. Felicity watched him most of all, the way he handed her boots off to Sara so she could adjust the ski bindings, the grace in his movements as he went about his tasks, walking naturally in the boots and looking completely at ease. 

“Almost ready,” he said with a soft smile, sitting down next to her and patting her knee. He reached into his boot bag and pulled out a startlingly green helmet: A deep emerald green, with a sheen to it. Felicity’s eyes flicked to the display of helmets on the far wall; there was nothing like it there, or on anyone else’s head. 

“Wowza,” she breathed, wishing she could whistle, because this would be the perfect time for it. 

Oliver’s eyes dropped to the object in his hands, a huff of a laugh escaping him.

“Yeah, it’s something, isn’t it? Tommy got it for me as a gag gift, so of course I had to wear it just to show him up.” He shrugged. “And now I wear it to...remember him. To have him up here with me, I guess.” His eyes lifted to hers and he smiled a little sadly. 

“Well I think it’s beautiful,” she affirmed, nodding once, and his smile lifted in happiness. 

“Ready Freddies?” Sara was right there in front of them, Felicity’s demo skis in one hand, a set of poles in the other. Oliver settled the helmet on his head, then stood and took them from her as Felicity grabbed her stuff. 

“You going to get out there today,” he asked Sara conversationally as Felicity zipped herself into her jacket. Sara’s head cocked to the side briefly. 

“I have a demo to take out after lunch, but I plan to quit early and get out there before the lifts close. We’ll see.” Her smile was lazy and soft, and it stayed in place as she turned her attention to Felicity. 

“These are great skis, Felicity. You’ll do fine. Just listen to Oliver. He’s the best instructor on the mountain.” She winked at both of them and turned away, already off to help someone else. 

——————————————————————-

Never underestimate the power of hot chocolate, Felicity reminded herself as she sat across from Oliver with a steaming paper cup between her hands. All the mechanics of getting her equipment sorted had given them a late start, so while they were just taking a break, the lodge was quickly filling with the first of the lunch crowd. Felicity sipped and people-watched, content to sit quietly and absorb the atmosphere.

“I want to get you to the bottom of the hill before we eat lunch,” Oliver stated, eyeing her over his cup. “But a promise is a promise: If you’re not enjoying it by then, you can spend the afternoon here, or I’ll take you back to the house.” She studied him thoughtfully. A sudden mental image of Sara flashed through her head: Sara wouldn’t give up, she’d wager. But she kept that to herself.

“How do you know everyone here so well,” she asked instead. Oliver dropped his gaze to the cup in his hands. 

“After Tommy’s...accident, I gave up, on a lot of things, but college first. I spent that winter here, working.” He tilted his head in the direction of the ski shop. “I was also an instructor. It turned to be a pretty good winter, actually.” 

Felicity bit her lip, needing to ask it; she had to know. 

“Is that when you met Sara?”

Oliver's expression of nostalgia didn’t change, but he raked a hand through his hair which caused the top to stick out all over; on someone less good looking it would’ve looked silly, but it made him look like a sex god. Of course. 

“Sara and I have known each other a long time. Since we were kids.” He made steady, reassuring eye contact with her. “If you’re asking if we have a history, the answer is yes. But Sara and I are just friends.”

Felicity nodded, her curiosity both curbed and piqued, if that combination was even possible. She concentrated on the dregs of her drink while she let her imagination spool out: Did they learn to ski together, or did he teach her too? Did she comfort him when Tommy died? Had he ever brought her home to meet his parents?

“Ready,” he asked softly, and by his eyes she could tell he meant ‘ready to go’ and also ‘ready to let the Sara thing go’. 

“Yep,” she said, to both. For now. 

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He’d known from the moment Sara called him “Ollie” that he and Felicity would have to talk about it. To be honest, he’d known it would be a thing as soon as she agreed to come up here for the weekend, because it was nearly impossible to be on the mountain and not run into Sara at some point. 

They’d been moving in the same circles since Middle School: In those days she’d been an incurable tomboy, always chasing after her older sister, Laurel, and her friends. Tommy and Laurel had been sort of a thing even then; where Laurel went so went Tommy, and, by extension, Oliver. More often than not, when his best friend and her sister were off making out, the two of them were left to amuse themselves. 

He and Sara both preferred being outdoors, climbing rocks, riding bikes, and—when Tommy could convince indoor-girl Laurel to do it—skiing. It was Sara who helped him with Thea when he was first teaching her to ski, and Sara who switched to Boarding and then convinced his little sister to join her. 

They messed around as teenagers, experimentation based on opportunity more than anything. Sara was enthusiastic about sex, up for anything, and so it shouldn’t have been a big shock when she told him she thought she might be bi. They weren’t officially...anything, never had been, but it was still a bit of a blow to his ego; he was ashamed now to admit he avoided her for a couple of years because of it. 

And then college came; it was Laurel, Tommy, and Oliver, off to Stanford. Law school, Business school, and whatever bullshit-Major-of-the-week for himself. No room for Sara, always left to play catch up. 

Until the night she showed up outside his frat house, broken from a date gone horribly wrong and looking for help. He’d taken her in, hidden her in his room for half a semester, letting her heal by giving her all of himself. And the moment he thought he’d fallen for her she was gone, as if she could sense his growing attachment and felt the need to keep them both safe. 

When Tommy died Sara was his first call: For several agonizing minutes she juggled his call with the one from Laurel, soothing both of them, saving her own tears for later. And just before he fled campus for good she slipped back into his life, comforted him through the funeral, eased his nightmare-filled nights, helped him pack up Tommy’s things and get them to his father. 

Sara was already working at the ski resort, never having settled on the idea of college; Oliver went up with her to avoid breaking the news to his parents that he was done with Stanford and had a job within the hour. The work and the winter soothed his soul, convincing him that life could go on. He fit here, better than he ever had on a college campus, and Sara was close by—sometimes in his bed—to keep him out of real trouble. 

One ski season rolled into two, and then three, and still Oliver worked on the mountain. His parents had gone from understanding to bewildered to fed up, waiting for him to grow out of his grief, or his immaturity, or whatever excuse they could come up with. 

If she could’ve seen the future, Sara might have stayed around the night of Big Tony’s retirement party last fall, just before Opening Day. It was organized by Little Tony (who’d actually been bigger than his father since he was 15, but a nickname was a nickname), so things got out of hand quickly, because Little Tony was a rabble rouser. 

But Sara left early that night, before the cops had to be called and before Oliver, far over the legal limit with no one left to watch over him, got himself arrested in a most humiliating fashion. The hammer came down at home and the nursing home gig was set up; from now on Oliver would only be a patron of the resort. 

Sitting across from Felicity, watching her glory in machine-made hot chocolate, Oliver couldn’t wish for the outcome of that night to be any different: She was everything he’d ever hoped for and never thought he’d get, and he had to hit rock bottom before he got the chance to meet her. 

Tonight he would tell her everything.


	21. Chapter 21

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“I really think you should try it.”

“Ah, nope. Not interested, thanks.”

“Come on, Felicity, you know you’re curious. Try it for me.”

“It sounds like it could be painful.”

“Not if you do it right.”

“Did anybody ever tell you you have a very wicked grin?”

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted behind them. “Are you two getting on the ski lift today or not?”

“Oops. Sorry!” Felicity shuffled her feet comically in an attempt to vacate the line, but it was super impossible to get anywhere on flat ground if you didn’t have ski poles. Oliver hooked a hand under her armpit and slid them both forward toward the maniacally rotating chairs of death. 

“Noooo,” she protested weakly, helpless to resist as he maneuvered them up against a set of closed gates. Felicity thought back to being a school kid and timing the swing of the jump rope so that she could get in at just the right time. Was this like that? ‘Cause she wasn’t ready—

“Ready?”

Her screech of protest was cut short when the chair before theirs swung past and the gate flipped open, allowing gravity to dump them out onto...a conveyer belt?

“Oh.” Felicity peered down at the moving carpet beneath their feet, then up into the bored—maybe stoned—eyes of the lift operator who stood ready to hit the big red STOP button and bring the entire lift to a halt if she managed to screw this up.

“Look behind you. Here it comes,” Oliver warned, as the conveyer belt matched pace with the chair coming up behind them. “And...sit.”

The chair bumped the back of her knees and continued forward, scooping them up and away; her feet were dangling in midair seconds later. Oliver lowered the safety bar over them and slung an arm across the back of the chair, pulling her closer. 

“Now was that so bad,” he teased, a big smile on his face. 

She frowned at him, but it was only half-hearted. 

“There’s some nice easy stuff to do up here, and then a long winding way to the bottom. Plus, the view is spectacular.”

Felicity sighed and tipped her head against his shoulder; she giggled when their helmets knocked together.

“Are you cold,” he asked, hugging her a little closer.

“No I’m good.” They sat quietly for a bit. “It’s really peaceful up here isn’t it?”

The mid-afternoon sun was soft, and the wind had dropped to almost nothing. Conifers lined either side of the lift, covered in new snow from the night before. Ski trails zig zagged back and forth across the lift line; sometimes there was a trail that ran under the lift itself. Felicity watched skiers and snowboarders zip by under their swinging feet, well out of danger from the dangling skis twenty feet above them. 

“Um, Oliver? Are those...”

“Bras? Yes. Yes they are.”

Felicity’s jaw dropped as they passed a row of trees festooned with lacy brassieres in every color of the rainbow, plus the odd string of Mardi Gras beads. 

“I have, like, three layers of clothes on. How do they even...?” She let the question dangle while she checked Oliver’s expression: It was obvious he knew how. 

“Are there any other weird ski traditions I should know about?”

“Well, on this mountain the locals and workers all hang out at Bunny’s, apres ski. We’ll be expected to eat dinner at the house tonight, but I thought we might stop by there later, if you want.” 

“Sounds fun. I’m in.” 

“Good. Now. We’re coming up on the end of our ride. So here’s what’s gonna happen: I’ll raise the safety bar, then you’ll need to get the tips of your skis pointed up, like so.” He demonstrated and she copied him, getting a nod of approval. “When I say go, you just stand up. Keep your weight even and don’t try to walk. I’ll do the rest. Got it?”

“Tips up, stand when you say, let you do the rest. Got it.”

“Perfect. Here we go.”

As they neared the top Oliver raised the bar, then shifted his poles to his outside hand and placed the hand closest to her under her elbow. Felicity focused on raising the tips of her skis, but at the last second something made her look up past the looming departure point.

Cooper Seldon was standing in the snow looking right at her, a smirk on his face. 

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He thought she had it: She’d gotten on the lift with no problem, didn’t seem to be bothered by heights, and had enjoyed the ride. And he was excited about taking her out for the evening and letting her meet some of the great people he’d gotten to know over the past few years. 

Her tips were up, her arm braced snugly in his hand, but at the last minute—just as he was getting up—Felicity froze. 

The fact that she didn’t stand when he did threw off Oliver’s balance; he ended up standing on only one ski, dragging her up and out of the way just before their chair made its turn to continue on. 

“Whoa! You alright?” Felicity unfroze and flailed, apparently forgetting the part about not trying to walk. 

“Oliver,” she squeaked as he pulled her safely out of the way of the skiers coming off the next chair. 

“You’re okay. You’re fine,” he soothed, trying to get her attention as she whipped her head back to the top of the lift station like she’d left something behind. She kept looking back for several seconds, but there was nothing there except more skiers being dropped off from their chairs. She finally turned to him, her face white as a sheet. 

“Hey,” he said softly, tugging off his glove and running the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “You feeling okay? Sorry if that was scary. It happens fast.” Her eyes were...haunted, almost, but she finally nodded with a sigh. 

“I’m fine. We can go.”

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By the end of the afternoon she’d convinced herself it had been a trick of her imagination; seeing John Diggle yesterday had triggered some kind of paranoid delusion. She certainly saw no more sign of him, although most people were bundled up so much it would be hard to tell. 

Her skiing improved to the point that she could stop concentrating long enough to enjoy the views on the long easy trail that wound to the bottom. They took their time, stopping to rest frequently, happy being together. Oliver looked so content here, even though going this slow must be boring for him. 

The lodge finally came into view and Felicity sighed. She was worn out from working muscles in new ways, and overwhelmed by all the fresh air. 

“Ready to be done,” he asked, reading her correctly. 

She nodded, and he pointed ahead to the metal racks waiting at the bottom. Oliver popped out of his skis and then helped her out of hers, sliding them together and shipping them in the rack in one smooth motion.

They clumped into the building and managed to find an open seat in front of the fire so Oliver could help her get her boots off. Felicity wiggled her toes with a sigh, happy to have her feet back. 

“Stay put.” Oliver winked at her before pushing to his feet and striding off; in the meantime, Felicity took off her gloves and helmet, and combed out her hair with her fingers. In no time Oliver was back, their gear bag in one hand, a hot chocolate in the other. 

“Your snow boots and your book are in here. Mind if I do a few runs before the lifts close?” 

Felicity grinned up at him.

“Are you kidding? Go. Have fun. I’ll be right here when you get back.” Oliver bent down and kissed her before he headed out to the slopes. 

———————————————————-

Forty-five minutes of warm crackling fire and a good book later, there was a tap on her shoulder. Felicity jumped, dragged from her story with a surprised “Oh!”; Sara was standing behind her, smiling softly.

“Hey there. Sorry to scare you, but I have a surprise.”

She held out a small warm hand and Felicity took it shyly, unsure where this was going. 

“Grab your coat,” she added, practically skipping ahead—snowboard boots were much less clunky than ski boots—as she pulled Felicity behind her to the entrance and then outside onto the stone-paved patio holding a fire pit and a scattering of Adirondack chairs. 

“What—“ Felicity began, still shrugging into a sleeve and stumbling along behind. Sara grabbed her shoulders and squared her to a slope off to their left: It was covered in rounded bumps from top to bottom. Sara pointed them out. 

“That’s a mogul trail. Now watch.”

She kept her hands on Felicity’s shoulders, the two gazing up the hill as a lone figure appeared at the top, stopped for a few seconds, and then started down. 

The skier was practically motionless from the waist up, but their bottom half dipped and bounced, knees flexing and turning as their skis negotiated the bumpy trail. In no time at all the skier was through the bumps and shooting straight down the rest of the hill, pulling up at the last second, perfectly in control, and cruising past on the way to a chair lift. 

That...looked like dancing,” Felicity breathed, blown away by the skill and speed. She looked at Sara, who was grinning. 

“That was Oliver.”

Felicity blinked at her in surprise.

“How...?”

Sara shrugged. “I ran into him at the top of the lift, and when he said he was coming down this way I decided to beat him down and come get you. I wanted you to see how good he is.”

“So he didn’t—“

“Didn’t know we were watching? Nope.” Sara grinned, obviously enjoying herself.

“Sara, thanks. That was amazing.”

“My pleasure. See you tonight at Bunny’s?”

Felicity nodded. “See you.”

Sara winked at her and practically ran back onto the snow, scooping up her board as she headed for the lifts and a couple more runs. Felicity watched her go, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in a half grin.

A sudden breeze swirled up through her open coat making her shiver; she turned back toward the lodge in search of her spot in front of the fire, but as she walked another kind of chill hit the back of her neck and slithered up into her hairline.

For just a second, Felicity felt sure she was being watched.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’M BACK!!!!  
> Sorry for the terrible delay: I had to set this story aside while I finished A Dance with the Devil, but that’s all wrapped up (it’s a Season Five re-write, if you haven’t checked it out yet) and now we’re full steam ahead here again. 
> 
> So excited to keep telling this story; enjoy (and come say hi)!

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As much as he loved skiing, the hours in the late afternoon were some of Oliver’s favorites in a ski weekend. With the lifts closing by four, there was plenty of time for a shower and a nap in front of the fire—or a little alone time—before dinner. He was banking on the latter as they rolled up to the house, the sun already setting behind the mountain and the interior of the Camp lit up merrily. 

“Time to relax before dinner. You ready?”

“Absolutely. I see a very hot shower in my future,” Felicity grinned tiredly. 

They found his parents and their friends already home and cleaned up, lounging in the Great Room with drinks. Robert waved to them from his spot in a leather armchair.

“How was your day, Felicity?”

“It was amazing. Really fun. Thank you for having me.”

“You’re most welcome. Oliver, did you see your sister out there today?” His son shook his head.

“Nope. Is she not back yet?”

“She wasn’t here when we got back, but she might’ve come in while we were changing.”

Oliver ran a hand through his hair and shifted his weight.

“I have to bring our stuff in. I’ll check.”

“Thanks, son.”

“Dinner’s at 6,” his mother added. “Chef Paul tonight.”

“Got it. We’ll be there.”

As they turned to head upstairs Felicity latched on to Oliver’s arm.

“You have more than one chef,” she whispered, her wide eyes making Oliver chuckle. 

“She gets different ones in for these weekends. Rent a Chef,” he joked as he took her hand and pulled her, groaning, up the stairs.

Oliver hesitated outside his door; he really wanted her with him, but her stuff was now officially in the bunk room with the girls. He looked down at her and caught his lip between his teeth.

“Do you wanna...”

Felicity looked up at him, completely done in.

“I think I’ll take a shower down there, then I’ll come back and see you. Okay?” Oliver nodded and kissed her forehead. He waited until she’d entered the room at the end of the hall before he went back downstairs to get their skis from the car. 

All the lights were off in the storage room, which should’ve alerted him, but he was busy picturing Felicity under a hot shower, which was making it difficult to walk, especially while carrying two sets of skis and boots. 

He didn’t have a hand free for the light switch, so he stumbled a couple of steps into the room in order to set something down. Just as he was fumbling along the wall for the switch he heard a rustling that wasn’t him. His fingers found the switch and flicked it up at the same time he hollered “Hey!”

Thea blinked back at him in surprise, her shirt clutched to her front. She was sort of folded in on herself—an attempt at modesty—and she looked incredibly tiny, especially considering a larger body was trying to hide behind her in a half-crouch. 

A larger MALE body. 

“What the hell,” Oliver yelled, taking two steps forward as Thea’s eyes went wide.

“Ollie, no!” His baby sister took a step to the left to head him off, standing up to her full height without letting the shirt fall. The guy behind her was zipping his pants; Oliver saw red. 

“GET! OUT!” 

The kid turned and fled out the back door as Oliver stalked after him, scooping up a red hoodie and launching it out into the snow after him.

“Hey asshole,” he yelled out into the twilight, “if I ever see you again I’m gonna kill you!”

He slammed the door and locked it before swinging around to glare at Thea. She had managed to scramble back into her shirt and was bending down to retrieve her bra, a murderous look on her face. 

“How DARE you,” she seethed.

“How dare...Thea, you’re...you’re FIFTEEN!” Oliver was so mad he was spluttering. 

“Oh yeah? Well how old were you, Romeo?!” 

“THAT—that is none of your business! And NOT the point.” He was running out of ammunition for this particular fight, and he knew it. 

“YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!”

Thea pushed past him and stomped out the door while Oliver ran a hand through his hair and growled. The urge to throw something was strong, but in this room that was a really bad idea; he had to settle for putting the ski gear away very forcefully. 

He wanted nothing more than to go find Felicity and ask her to make it better, but just as he was heading out the door Phil Dorsey popped his head in and asked Oliver if he would mind waxing his skis before the morning. I very much would mind Phil, Oliver thought, but he smiled and said he’d be happy to. He got to work immediately; if they were going to go to Bunny’s later there wouldn’t be any other time unless he got up early Sunday.

By the time he was finished with the skis there was just enough time left before dinner to jump in the shower. Oliver cursed under his breath and took the stairs two at a time. 

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Felicity was just coming out of the bathroom, dressed and finger combing her wet hair, when Thea flew into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her, rage on her face. Her bra was swinging from one hand. She blew past both Felicity and Olivia, sitting cross-legged on her bed, and stomped into the bathroom without a word. 

There was silence in the bedroom for a few seconds before Felicity turned to the younger girl.

“I take it she wasn’t holding that so she could throw it into a tree.”

Olivia shook her head slowly.

“Ooo-kay. I think I’ll dry my hair down the hall.”

Felicity slipped out the door and down the hall to Oliver’s room, but he wasn’t back yet. She dried her hair and then went out and sat on the edge of the bed to wait, but before long she got sleepy. She slipped off her boots and climbed all the way up to the pillows, curling up with a hand under her cheek and falling asleep immediately.

The next thing she knew, Oliver was leaning over her, freshly showered and smelling fantastic, his breath ghosting over her ear as he pressed soft kisses against her neck. Felicity stretched and moaned happily, and he helped roll her onto her back so he could settle his hips between her thighs. His eyebrows waggled suggestively. 

“Don’t you usually feed a girl before you ravage her,” she kidded gently, running her fingers up the back of his head and scratching his scalp. Oliver practically purred in response. 

“I’ll be quick,” he murmured, rocking against her pelvis gently as he peppered kisses along her neck. Her alpine sweater was high-necked, and he growled softly as he tried to move it out of the way with his fingers. Felicity giggled.

“You’ll be QUICK?! You’re really selling it there, buddy.” Oliver started to chuckle, even as he kissed her. She moved her head to intercept his next attack on her throat and got her own lips on his. But before things got too serious she pulled away to cup his face with both hands and make him look at her. 

“What time is it,” she asked him. Oliver growled deep in his chest, which vibrated through her in a very nice way, but turned to check the alarm clock. 

“Almost six,” he sighed. “We better go.” He got in one more attack on her neck that left her giggling before pushing up and off the bed. 

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Chef Paul liked to present comfort food with a gourmet twist; tonight he offered a hearty lumberjack theme of beef stew (made with filet mignon), a gourmet cheese board, and a tossed salad consisting of an assortment of exotic greens. Oliver glanced at Felicity as he picked through his salad and almost laughed out loud at the sight of her eyeing a bit of lettuce with wildly ruffled edges.

His parents chatted with their friends—which he mostly tuned out—and the girls sat silently on the far side of Felicity. He and Thea had avoided eye contact like the plague coming to the table; he didn’t know when or how their earlier encounter was going to come back up, but it was definitely happening. 

“...a presentation to the Board,” Phil Dorsey was saying to his father, apparently catching him up on what he’d missed during his overseas trip. Oliver’s ears perked up. “It was one of the new hires, a...Charlie?” Phil took another bite of salad and chewed for a second before continuing. Oliver noticed that Felicity had stilled next to him.

“He has some idea to donate technology to youth centers, old folks homes—“ he twirled his fork around vaguely as he continued—“that sort of thing.” Dorsey shook his head and shrugged dismissively. “I don’t know.”

Oliver’s gaze shifted to his father, who made a noise of non-commital while sipping his wine. 

“It’s Curtis.” The voice came from beside him; it took him a second to recognize it as Felicity’s. “His name is Curtis Holt.”

Suddenly all eyes were on her, the petite blonde IT girl with the glasses. Oliver watched her freeze, as if she’d just realized she had spoken out loud. He felt a sudden urge to jump to her rescue and cleared his throat.

“I, ah, actually got to see his presentation myself, at the nursing home. I think he has a really solid idea.” He thought of the photos he’d taken and fished his phone out of his back pocket, removing the napkin from his lap with one hand while scrolling through his pictures with the other. He got up and circled the table to show Robert the pics, then left the phone with him to pass down the line as he returned to his seat. 

Felicity flashed him a grateful smile as everyone commented on how interested and happy all the senior citizens looked. Robert regarded his son for a moment before turning back to his friends and fellow Board members with a lift of his shoulders.

“Who do we have lobbying on the Hill right now?”

“Mick Anderson,” Chapman replied. “He’s good.”

“Youth centers are a non-starter, but nursing homes...” Dorsey tipped his head back and forth, considering. “Might be worth looking into this, if we can convince Medicare to pay for it.”

Chapman nodded enthusiastically. “Could be worth millions.”

Felicity’s fork clattered onto the plate as it fell from her fingers, and every eye turned to her again. Oliver’s hand, already in his lap, slid across the space between their chairs to squeeze her thigh gently. There was a breath as she seemed to debate whether to speak up, but then her eyes dropped and she took up the fork again. 

The rest of dinner, including the creme brûlée, passed in a blur, and as soon as the girls excused themselves Oliver nudged Felicity’s knee with his own and deposited his napkin on his plate. 

“We’re headed out for a bit. Please thank Chef for us.”

Robert nodded at him and Moira smiled, and he got Felicity up and moving without incident. He was helping her into her coat by the front door before she finally looked at him.

“Oliver, they can’t—“

“Felicity, please, let’s wait to talk about this in the car,” he pleaded softly, steering her toward the door. She let out a long sigh of frustration but complied. 

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The fear that dinner might be an event that left her out of her culinary depth was assuaged when Felicity saw the humble looking stew; some of the cheese looked weird, and most of the salad gave her pause, but everything turned out to be delicious. 

She was just thinking of moving on from the salad to the stew when she realized the conversation on the other side of the table had turned to Board business; specifically, the presentation Robert Queen had missed. 

Felicity froze with her hand on her fork: Charlie? Seriously? She realized her co-worker—like she—was low man on the totem pole of Queen Consolidated, but not many employees ever got the chance to even SEE the inside of the QC Boardroom, let alone give a presentation; he at least deserved the courtesy of having the correct name. 

“It’s Curtis,” she heard herself say. She felt the entire table of people freeze at the sound of her voice. “His name is Curtis Holt.” 

The enormity of what she’d just done—interrupt a conversation to correct a QC Board member in front of the CEO—hit her like a ton of bricks; Felicity wished fervently for a bottomless hole to open up under her chair. But then Oliver spoke up. 

He cleared his throat and addressed his father, standing up for Curtis’s idea, even showing him pictures of that night in the nursing home; pictures she didn’t realize he’d even taken, of Curtis and her interacting with the residents. She felt a surge of warmth flood through her, and flashed him a grateful smile.

But just as quickly the feeling faded, turned to shock, as she listened to their continued, casual conversation about the merits of the idea from a profit standpoint. Profit. Felicity wasn’t naive enough to think that cost wouldn’t be a factor in their decision, but Curtis’s entire pitch centered around QC giving back to the community, and these Board members were already considering how they could turn his idea into a money maker.

Her fork fell from her hand onto her plate, pulling the focus of the room once again, but she felt Oliver’s comforting—or warning—hand on her leg, clamped her teeth around everything she wanted to say, and kept her head down.

The rest of the meal passed by beneath her, eaten but untasted, as she listened to them move on to other topics, leaving her—and her friend’s beautiful idea—in the dust. It was Oliver’s knee nudging her own that woke her up to the fact that dinner was finally over and she was free to escape. Her arms were in her coat before Felicity realized she had more she needed to say, but he begged her to keep silent until they were in the car. 

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The drive to Bunny’s was silent, at least from the passenger seat. Oliver didn’t know what to say about the meal, so he skipped it altogether, choosing instead to ramble about their destination, local folklore, anything to fill the silence. It was as close to babbling as he ever got. 

He had them at their destination, putting the car into park, before he addressed the elephant in the backseat. Oliver left the car running and dropped his hands into his lap.

“Felicity,” he sighed, “look at me.”

Her head was down, watching her gloved fingers twist together, but she raised her eyes to his and his heart thudded in his chest.

“I’ll try again, with my father, one-on-one. I’m sorry—“

“Oliver, god, it wasn’t your fault! You don’t have to—“

“Take the blame for it?” He huffed unhappily. “I’m the one percenter, right? It’s my responsibility—“

“No! I never said that—“

They were both yelling, but at the situation, somehow, not each other. Oliver’s hands came up in fists, intending to pound the steering wheel, but he held them at the last moment; opened them instead and gripped the wheel. 

“I feel like I’m too old to just be figuring this stuff out now, Felicity.” He felt her looking at him, studying him, but he kept his focus straight ahead. “I know I’ve been extremely lucky—privileged—and I need to use those advantages to make a difference in the world, but I’m going to need...I’m going to need time to rebuild my relationship with my parents. To figure out where I fit into all of this.”

Felicity nodded, looking at her lap again, and he sighed. 

“Do you still want to go in?”

“Sure,” she replied. The ghost of a smile passed over her face. “I think we both need a drink.”

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The chalet-style building was full to bursting with atmosphere: Every available space on the walls and ceiling was filled with memorabilia: Vintage skis, trail maps, snow shoes, travel posters. Multi-colored Christmas lights were strung in the rafters above them, and Van Morrison’s Brown-Eyed Girl blasted from the speakers. 

Oliver took Felicity’s hand and pulled her through the crowd of apres skiers at the entrance still waiting for a table, waving to a buxom hostess who lit up like a Christmas tree and motioned over her shoulder toward the bar with a wink.

Much like the ski shop, Felicity heard his name called several times as they wove through the tables and past the crowded bar to a huge table in the corner. He pulled her up next to him and waited for his friends to shift and make room for a couple of chairs to be brought over. Somehow she ended up next to Sara, who was hunched forward over the table and tapping out the song’s rhythm on her beer bottle with her fingernails; she bumped Felicity with a friendly shoulder and grinned. 

Oliver leaned down next to Felicity’s ear. “Glass of red,” he guessed, brushing a kiss into her hair when she nodded. 

“How was skiing,” Sara asked as soon as he left, taking a swig from her bottle. Felicity smiled.

“Fun. Tiring.” 

Sara huffed a laugh and nodded with her whole upper body. 

“It is that.”

Laughter broke out across the table and Sara’s focus shifted there, but she leaned close to Felicity and began putting names to faces for her. Every introduction was accompanied by an anecdote or good-natured insult, and by the time Oliver returned with her wine and his own beer Felicity had a genuinely happy smile.

He plopped into the seat beside her and slung an arm across the back of her chair; she leaned against him and snuggled into his side, letting the music and the conversations swirl around her, but a glance at his face revealed a decidedly frowny face.

“What is it,” she asked, leaning up close so she didn’t have to yell. 

“Tell you later,” he promised; she watched him make an effort to settle his features into a more neutral expression. 

The conversation going around the table concerned funny skiing or snowboarding mishaps or close calls; most of them were hilarious, at least after the fact. Whatever had been bothering him when he sat down was easing out of Oliver; Felicity felt him relax against her as he laughed and joked along. Suddenly Sara was tipping her bottle toward him.

“Tell them about what happened today, Ollie,” she prompted with an impish grin. Felicity’s head turned in time to catch him studying the label on his beer modestly.

“That guy was just confused,” he joked mildly as he brought the bottle to his lips, but the crowd around the table responded with a dull roar of protests, not willing to let him off the hook that easily. He shrugged one shoulder as he swallowed and ran his tongue across his bottom lip.

“The last run of the day, on Wildfire, some asshole ran into me.” Felicity gasped.

“Did he knock you down,” she asked, suddenly forgetting all the other faces at the table. He glanced at her and smiled softly. 

“No. He bounced off of me and kept going, so I caught up to him, pulled even—“ he illustrated the action with one flat hand and his beer bottle—“and asked him if it was my turn to run into him.”

Laughter and cheers erupted around the table, and Sara reached across Felicity to high five him. When Sara had sat back again Felicity leaned up close to his ear. 

“Is that normal,” she asked. He glanced at her and shrugged, going for another sip of beer.

“Collisions happen. That particular scenario was a first for me, though.”

Felicity bit her lip in thought but asked no more questions. Across the table, Buster—the snowboarder who’d relieved her of her poles that morning—started telling jokes. Felicity leaned in once again and Oliver took the opportunity to give her upturned face a quick kiss.

“Is Buster even old enough to drink,” she asked him as the table erupted into laughter at the punchline. Oliver grinned at her.

“Buster’s older than I am, actually.” 

His grin got even bigger at her wide-eyed disbelief, and he tugged her closer into a hug. 

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In some ways, walking into Bunny’s was like coming home; but it was also exquisitely painful. He caught Adrienne’s eye behind the hostess stand and she waved them to the back, their usual spot. The gang was all in attendance it looked like; he got Felicity situated under Sara’s watchful eye and headed to the bar. 

He was waiting for their drinks, one foot resting on the rail, when a very familiar red hoodie passed behind the bartender carrying a plastic crate of clean glasses. Oliver’s blood pressure spiked.

“Hey, kid!” He pitched his voice so that it only carried across the bar and not the whole building, but it still had the desired effect; he turned and almost upended the whole crate. 

Oliver was prepared to vault the bar, but the heavily tattooed bartender in front of him was giving him side-eye, so he pushed down the better part of the rage and merely crooked a finger at the kid. Hoodie, clearly considering his options, finally stepped within hearing distance but still well out of arm’s reach.

“You remember the last thing I said to you this afternoon,” he growled. 

Hoodie nodded. 

“You know I could call the cops on you. She’s only 15.”

Hoodie shrugged, unimpressed. “I’m only 17.”

“Bullshit. 17 year olds can’t bar back,” Oliver retorted, getting less mad but more annoyed by the second. Teenagers.

“They can at Bunny’s.” Hoodie cocked an eyebrow and looked like he was ready to smirk, but Oliver growled and he thought better of it. 

“Everything okay here,” the bartender interjected smoothly, having been privy to the entire exchange. Oliver’s eyes flicked to the unfamiliar face; must be a new hire since he’d been forced to quit. The two eyed each other, and then Oliver poked a finger in the direction of Hoodie Guy.

“You tell him to stay away from my sister.”

His drinks were sitting in front of him; he threw a hundred dollar bill on the bar and tipped his head toward the corner table.

“I’ve got the next round.”

——————————————————————-

An hour and a half later Felicity’s head was resting on his shoulder and getting heavier by the minute. This crowd could go all night, but it was time for him to get her home. He tipped her upright gently, whispering as much, and she nodded agreement.

Sara turned away from her conversation to watch them pull their coats on.

“Headed out,” she asked mildly, and Oliver nodded. 

“You okay to get home?” He checked on her softly over Felicity’s head, having kept track of the number of beers she’d had just since they’d been here. Sara grinned at him.

“Probably not headed home tonight, but yeah. Got it covered.”

He shook his head once at her with a slow smile, and she shifted her focus to Felicity and winked. 

“See you tomorrow, kiddo,” she said, squeezing her arm briefly before turning back to her conversation. 

—————————————————————-

Felicity sat with her head against the passenger side window, trying to look up at the stars glittering in the night sky any time trees didn’t obstruct the view. Oliver was ready to tell her everything, just like he’d promised himself earlier in the day, but she looked so happy and peaceful he couldn’t make his mouth open. When we get to the room, he promised himself as he made the final turn into the driveway. 

Even at 9:30 the house was mostly dark; a full day of fresh air and exercise sent everyone to bed early on these weekends. Oliver pulled Felicity against him when she would’ve walked on down the hall to the bunk room.

“Stay,” he whispered, his forehead against hers. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Felicity bit her lip in thought, a little worried, but he managed a small, reassuring smile and she nodded. “Let me get ready for bed and I’ll come back.”

He let her go, slipping into his own room to get ready himself, but his time in the bathroom turned into a giant pep talk to himself in the mirror. Brushing his teeth took easily twice as long as he rehearsed opening lines and explanations to her potentially awkward questions.

A bit of pacing and—he wasn’t too proud to admit it—fifteen or so push ups and he was ready: Oliver stepped out into the bedroom to find Felicity stretched out under the covers, her back to him, sound asleep. He leaned against the wall and watched her shoulder rise and fall evenly and wondered if she was dreaming. 

He switched off the light and crawled into bed beside her.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twice this chapter went a direction I had not originally intended to go, but who am I to second guess a muse? So more sexy times ahead (I figured you wouldn’t mind). ;)

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The telltale buzz of a text on vibrate woke Felicity. It was 2:30 in the morning on the dot; the room was dark, and Oliver’s slumbering back was a solid and reassuring presence against her own. 

She shifted carefully until she could get her hand on her phone, pulling it back under the covers and squinting in pain at the light from the screen. It was an unknown number that she didn’t even bother remembering; she blinked through tired eyes and tried to push through the sleep-fuzziness of her brain to read the message:

YOUR NEW BOYFRIEND IS GOING TO DIE. 

The phone skittered out of her fingers and dropped to the floor and Felicity slithered out of bed after it, sinking to her knees on the rug. So it HAD been Cooper at the top of the ski lift yesterday, and the reason she felt someone watching her after she watched Oliver ski the mogul trail. He might even have been the guy who’d crashed into him on his last run. 

For a second she thought she might throw up; she made her way to the bathroom, pressing the door closed and then standing with her head bowed over the sink and her wrists under the cold running water. Minutes passed—long enough for Felicity to begin shivering—But eventually the sick feeling passed and she could turn off the water. She dried her shaking hands and sat on the edge of the tub for several more minutes, wondering what to do. 

He’d followed her here, obviously; how else would he know she was skiing, especially since the last time she’d tried it he’d been witness to her swearing it off forever. 

She had to get out, had to get as far away as possible from here, from Oliver, to keep Cooper away from him. She jumped up, needing to MOVE, but it suddenly hit her that she was stuck here; no car, no address, even, to order an Uber. Felicity’s shivers became more violent as she pictured herself leaving on foot and running straight into Cooper, waiting in the woods for his chance. 

She covered a moan of fear with her hands and bent double; she couldn’t leave, but she couldn’t go back to bed with Oliver either; he’d wake up and want to know what was wrong and...oh god, she couldn’t go back there right now. 

Felicity smoothed her hair down and took a deep breath, then slipped out of the door and down the hall to Thea and Olivia. 

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Waking up this morning was...different; Oliver could tell that right away. No warm tangle of arms and legs, no blonde hair spilling onto his pillow and tickling his nose. He raised his head and checked; he was definitely alone. He contented himself to wait a couple of minutes, in case Felicity was in the bathroom. It gave him time to lace his hands behind his head and picture her return, sleep-rumpled and chilly, climbing back into bed and warming herself beside him...or on top of him. A groan escaped him at the possibilities. 

Time passed and she didn’t come back, so he finally rolled out of bed—with a different kind of groan because he was now fully at attention—and padded to the bathroom door. It was open and the room was empty.

Oliver chewed his lip, worry beginning to spread through his bloodstream: She might be downstairs getting an early breakfast, or in the bunk room with the girls. A glance down at himself confirmed he wouldn’t be able to leave the room without some kind of intervention; he sighed, ran a hand over his face, and headed for the shower. 

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Felicity slowly rose to consciousness, coming out of a dreamless sleep to wonder where she was; this was clearly not where she fell asleep last night. She lifted her head and looked across the room and down at Thea’s face, peaceful in sleep and ensconced in the lower bunk. 

Bunk. 

Felicity laid her head back down on the pillow to mull over this development just as the bedroom door opened and Moira Queen’s upper body appeared. Felicity froze in place.

“Good morning girls.”

She could hear Olivia stir without comment below her, but Thea’s head popped off her pillow with a gasp, her gaze flying to Felicity’s spot in the upper bunk. 

“Oh,” she said quietly, deflating back into the pillow. “Ungh.” She burrowed back down and huffed a sigh.

“Time to get up. Chef made breakfast.”

Moira’s head disappeared and the door closed; Thea groaned into her pillow.

“I like Ollie’s breakfasts better.” She lifted her head again and squinted at Felicity across the room with one eye.

“You gave me a heart attack,” she accused. “I thought for sure you’d been caught.”

“Me too,” Felicity agreed heartily, climbing out of the covers and half-sliding down the ladder to be the first to the toilet. “I don’t even remember how I got here.”

She was two steps from the bathroom door when it came to her; Felicity’s blood ran cold. 

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Oliver hovered, showered and dressed, outside the bunk room door; Thea and Olivia were far past the age when he could barge in unannounced, but he’d peeked over the upstairs railing into the kitchen and found no sign of Felicity downstairs; this was the last logical place to check before he turned the house upside down. 

He finally knocked, a gentle rap against the door, and unconsciously held his breath while he waited. There was definitely some stirring around in there, but it seemed to take forever before the knob he was watching turned. Olivia’s faintly annoyed face appeared. 

“Is, uh, Felicity...”

She cocked an unamused eyebrow at him.

“She’s coming.”

Oliver nodded, feeling like he’d somehow just been told off, and stepped out of the way as the grumpy door keeper headed out in head-to-toe dry fit and fuzzy socks—one purple, one pink—to get breakfast. As he looked back to the door Thea pushed past him, clearly still mad. Oliver snagged her arm and gently pulled her to a stop.

“Hey. About yesterday—“ 

Thea yanked her arm loose from his grip with a glare. 

“You’re an ass.”

She jogged to catch up to Olivia without a look back and Oliver watched her go, sliding a hand up through his damp hair.

“Probably,” he agreed, under his breath. 

He turned back to the open doorway just as Felicity stepped through, eyes down and still in her pjs. 

“Good morning,” he said, both happy and a little surprised that he’d found her so easily. “I lost you there.”

He reached for her, already regretting taking care of himself in the shower, but Felicity felt stiff when he pulled her close, and she wouldn’t make eye contact.

“You okay,” he asked softly, pressing a kiss against her head. 

“I’m fine,” Felicity replied, “just didn’t sleep well last night.” She moved off down the hall and he fell into step beside her.

“Sorry about that.” Oliver huffed a laugh he hoped sounded amusing. “I didn’t think I snored—“

Felicity glanced at him and cut him off.

“It wasn’t you.”

“Okay. Good.” He wanted to at least hold her hand, but she had them clasped in front of her, clearly unavailable. The rest of the walk to the kitchen was silent. 

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Eggs Benedict, mini quiche, fresh fruit overflowing a watermelon carved into a sleigh—who were these people? Felicity controlled her breathing as she carried her plate from the breakfast buffet and found a place at the table. The memory of last night’s dinner conversation washed over her, adding a layer of mad to the roiling anxiety already in her stomach. 

Oliver ate silently, looking like he was trying to read her mood and respond accordingly, but there was nothing she could tell him, certainly not in front of his parents. She choked down a couple pieces of toast and her juice and then excused herself, ignoring Oliver’s baffled expression. His breakfast was only half finished, but by the look on his face he was considering abandoning the rest in order to come with. 

“No. Stay and finish. I’m just going to get dressed.” Felicity forced a smile in order to convince him, and though his brow knit in concern Oliver let her go. 

She jogged up the stairs, convinced he would wolf his food in order to follow; she needed to retrieve her phone out of his room before he found it—and that message. She slipped inside and searched the nightstand on the far side of the bed as she crossed the room, but couldn’t find it at first. It had fallen to the floor and landed partly under the bed, she remembered; Felicity scooped it up and blew out a huge breath as she woke it up:

The screen was blank. 

She logged in and went to Messages, but the last one there had come from Caitlin, Friday afternoon. There was no middle of the night message, no number, nothing. Felicity sagged from her knees onto the floor and slumped against the bed; maybe it was a dream. It must’ve been a dream. 

The band of fear around her chest eased, to be replaced with mild concern that she might be losing her mind. She was just climbing to her feet when Oliver pushed through the door.

“Hey,” he said, surprised to see her. “You okay?”

Felicity came to him silently, walking right into his arms; he wrapped her up without question, swaying slightly as he held her.

“Talk to me,” he whispered.

She thought about it, she really did; just spilling all of it, coming clean about Cooper. It would be a relief to have it out there. But any explanation of her ex the ex-con would have to include his crime, and her involvement in it; Felicity pictured the faces of the Executives and Board members she’d just eaten breakfast with and shuddered hard enough that Oliver squeezed her tighter. 

Nope. There was no way she could tell him what was going on.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled into his chest. “Just tired.”

Oliver loosened his grip to stroke his hands up and down her back, then slid to her arms and gave them the same treatment.

“We’ll make it a short day today,” he promised. “I’ll get you back home in plenty of time to rest up. Okay?”

Felicity nodded against him and he chuckled. 

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There had been a knot of concern in Oliver’s stomach all morning. It had started as he walked beside Felicity to breakfast, grew as he watched her barely manage to eat, and almost overwhelmed him when she practically ran from the dining room. Something was just not right.

Robert intercepted them as they made their way downstairs, dressed in their layers and ready to ski.

“The temperature dropped over night. Make sure you’re bundled up.” He led the way through the basement. “How did Felicity’s skis and boots work yesterday?”

“They were great,” Oliver confirmed, glancing at Felicity who nodded agreement.

Robert smiled, then leaned closer to his son. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and buy them,” he said with a wink. He disappeared through the door into the storage room, but when Oliver started to follow he felt Felicity grab his hand and tug him back. He looked down at her shocked face.

“Oliver,” she hissed, “I saw how much those skis cost. You are not buying them for me.”

Oliver’s brow knit with concern, and then he shrugged slightly.

“As far as skis go, they really weren’t that expensive. Besides,” he continued, squeezing her hand, “we get a discount.”

Felicity blinked at him in confusion.

“Because you used to work here?”

Oliver licked his lips, suddenly unsure.

“Because my parents are part owners.”

“Of the ski shop.”

There was a pause. 

“No. Of the whole resort.”

———————————————————————-

He kept an eye on her while they got ready, half afraid he’d spooked her. It was probably a lot, seeing their lifestyle from the outside. He didn’t understand it himself, sometimes. They were just zipping up their jackets in preparation to step outside when he had an idea; something he could show her later to maybe change her opinion.

“Let’s go back up to the top. There’s some other beginner stuff we can do, and then we’ll take the long easy way back here. We’ll be done by lunch. Okay?”

Felicity nodded, in better spirits than first thing this morning, but still a little withdrawn. Oliver pushed down the rising panic that something was very wrong and tried to convince himself that she was just tired. 

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Felicity was sore this morning; her quads grumbled at her as they started out, but she was soon pleasantly surprised that her muscles remembered what they’d learned the day before. Her balance was better and she was more in control; the first run of the day down to the lifts was quite pleasant.

“Time for something different,” Oliver teased when they pulled up at the bottom. There was another lodge here with three separate lifts. He popped out of his skis and helped Felicity out of hers, then hefted both pairs, one set on each shoulder, and started walking.

“Um...” Felicity questioned, stumbling along to catch up when he twisted around to grin at her. As they got closer to his objective she started to make sense of it: They were headed to the gondolas. The enclosed cars circled slowly around a loading platform while skiers on foot shipped their skis on the outside of their car and climbed inside. 

Oliver and Felicity waited their turn in line, and then stepped onto the platform as the next empty gondola swung by.

“In you go,” he prompted, busy putting the skis in the holder. Felicity stepped in and took a seat and Oliver poked his head in a moment later. He settled on the bench next to her as the doors slid closed and the car lifted away from the platform and up into the sky. 

“This is the only way to travel on a cold day,” he insisted, slinging an arm around her. Felicity settled against him and hummed in agreement. The sticker on the inside of the car stated it could hold six people; she was glad they hadn’t needed to squeeze anyone else in. 

Actually, it was quite roomy for two. Felicity gave him a sidelong glance.

“Have you ever...done the deed in one of these?” 

Oliver’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Are you offering?”

She clucked her tongue at him.

“Answer the question, please, Mr Queen.”

The eyebrows rose another notch and he turned toward her and grabbed at the zipper on her jacket.

“Can I plead the fifth,” he asked huskily, his eyes radiating heat as he stripped his gloves off and worked her jacket open. Felicity wriggled against him, growling in frustration when his fingers found only layers tucked into layers. 

“You’ll never get through all of it,” she complained teasingly, watching him struggle.

“Like hell.”

Oliver directed her to stand and shifted her onto his lap, easing her back against him.

“Helmets off,” he ordered when their hard plastic-covered heads clonked together and she giggled. Felicity unclipped the chin strap and dumped her helmet beside her on the bench, then leaned back against his chest.

Oliver had figured out the secret of the layers; his long fingers quested down instead of up, sliding under the band of her ski pants, then the dry fit layer and, further down, her underwear.

Felicity gasped as his cold fingers found their target and went to work. She stiffened and sighed against the ministrations of his fingers, pushing back against them to put more pressure where she needed it. 

Oliver groaned once, clearly wanting more contact than he was able to get, and Felicity raised her hips further, chasing the slow build of a release. He dipped a finger inside her and slowly dragged the wetness within up through her folds before attacking her clit again. 

“Oh god, Oliver,” she choked out, wishing she had stayed in his bed all night so they could’ve done this before all the clothes went on. 

“Come for me,” he urged her in a gravelly whisper, his free hand sliding over the top of her shirt to squeeze her breasts. She shut her eyes to block out the thought of being out in public and steadily moving toward the end of their ride, and made her body relax; trying too hard was going to have the opposite affect on her goal.

Oliver nuzzled her neck, just below her earlobe, and his ragged, hungry breaths in her ear pushed her over the edge. She spasmed under his fingers and flung her arms out to either side, sending her helmet flying from the bench as the wave took her. 

He worked her through her orgasm, stringing it out until she gasped and contracted away from his fingers, overstimulated. He sighed an expletive as he dragged his hand up and out of her pants, careful to guide her clothing back into place as he left soft kisses against her neck.

“Holy shit you’re beautiful,” he whispered, letting her lay boneless against him for a moment. Felicity opened her eyes and slowed her breathing, once again aware of the scenery outside the windows, and the top of the lift station which was now visible up ahead. 

He patted her hips to encourage her up, then reached down to scoop up her helmet and hand it off when she flopped back over to her side of the bench. Felicity blew out a giant breath and met Oliver’s eyes for the first time since they’d started; she knew she looked as dazed as she felt, and he looked smug and thoroughly turned on.

“Gondolas are fun,” she managed, and the declaration caused him to throw his head back in a laugh as he re-fastened his helmet. She was amazed at herself, because an orgasm had never come that easily to her before; it must be those magic fingers of his, she thought with a surprised shake of her head. 

Her legs were jelly; Oliver caught her elbow and stabilized her as she basically fell out of the gondola at the end of the ride. An attendant got their skis out of the rack for them and Oliver took them up, nodding his head toward the open snow to get her going. 

It was even windier here at the top, a slap in the face after the relative warmth of the enclosed car; Felicity gasped in surprise, struggling through the snow to an open spot where Oliver could deposit the skis and help her step into hers. He led the way to an easy trail, grinning back at her and letting her know he was still thinking about the gondola ride. 

They skied down the first trail at a leisurely pace so Felicity could work on her turns; Oliver patiently explained that it didn’t matter how steep a trail was, because control was the key. He skied just in front of her and modeled the way he wanted her to turn, which left a clear path in the snow for her to follow. 

She fell once when her tips crossed, face planting in slow motion with a squawk and laughing hysterically at herself as Oliver immediately hiked back up the hill to sort her out and help her up. After confirming that she was unhurt, he swooped in for a kiss.

“Ooo, you’re freezing. How does a warming hut with a hot chocolate machine sound?”

“Delightful,” she sighed. He nodded and led the way.

To be fair, it was a good deal bigger than the kind of hut she’d imagined, but spare in the amenities; a few tables and chairs, restrooms, and the promised hot chocolate dispenser. Oliver brought a steaming cup filled to the brim to the table she’d snagged, setting it down with a pile of napkins.

“Mind if I do a couple of runs while you warm up,” he asked. Felicity smiled up at him.

“Not at all. Have fun.”

———————————————————————-

Felicity pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and scrolled through her emails as she sipped the scalding liquid, still a little tingly whenever she thought about Oliver’s lap and his very capable fingers. The exit door near her opened, bringing a gust of wind with it that threatened to send her pile of napkins flying; she slapped her hand down on top of it just in time. 

“Hey,” a voice piped up behind her shoulder. Felicity swiveled around to find Thea pulling off her gloves.

“Hi there,” she smiled. “Pull up a chair.”

The younger girl was just falling into a seat when the same door opened and the wind caught Felicity’s napkins again, sending them fluttering away before she could catch them. She dived under the table after them just as her phone chimed with a text.

“‘I saw what you did.’ Huh.” Felicity paused with her hands on the last stray napkin as she realized Thea was reading the text off her phone out loud. “You have some weird friends, Felicity,” she snorted. “I’m gonna get some hot chocolate.”

She was up and gone before Felicity had pulled herself together enough to raise her head above the table. There in front of her, plain as day, was the message. Who...saw...what, exactly? What happened inside the gondola? Her heart suddenly dropped into her stomach; Felicity reached a shaking hand out to unlock her phone, but by the time she’d tapped in her passcode the text had disappeared. 

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Oliver took three runs to give Felicity time to warm up. Every time he thought about that gondola ride his breath would hitch; she was absolutely gorgeous, falling apart in his arms. He couldn’t wait for their next opportunity to be together. The image of all the different ways he wanted to have her made the blood in his body rush decidedly south. 

He bit back a groan of need as he shuffled forward in the lift line; usually it wasn’t too hard to find someone he knew to share a chair with, but he’d ridden up with strangers every time so far. Oliver joined a pair of snowboarders randomly and moved forward to be the next in line for a chair, but at the last minute another single skier moved up next to him.

“Okay if I join you,” he asked, and Oliver gave him a nod of acceptance. They loaded into the chair and rode in silence for a few minutes, the boarders holding their own quiet conversation. 

“You from around here?” The voice was slightly muffled behind a balaclava. Oliver glanced his way before answering.

“No, but I grew up coming here regularly, and I worked here the last couple of years. You?”

He shook his head no. His goggles had a metallic tint, making his eyes impossible to see. 

“You must be good,” he said softly, and Oliver glanced at him again. There was a slight edge to his voice all of a sudden, almost a challenge. He suppressed a sigh; he was not in the mood to deal with an asshole today. He shrugged and left it at that.

They rode silently for a few more minutes, and Oliver began to wish the chair would go faster; the wind was brutal this morning, and he had a beautiful blonde waiting for him in the warming hut. Just the thought of her—even fully clothed—stirred his blood; he shifted slightly on the chair to relieve the pressure. 

The lift station was in view above them before the skier beside him spoke again.

“You skiing Wildfire today,” he asked, his face once again turned Oliver’s way.

“Probably not.”

Oliver spared him another glance; this guy was thoroughly odd. He hefted the safety bar as the departure ramp loomed up and everyone shifted around to get ready. The guy was looking at him again.

“Hey. Stay safe out there,” he said. Oliver nodded politely, but allowed himself an eye roll as they all stood in unison and slid down the ramp and off in different directions.

What a weirdo. 

—————————————————————————

The rest of the morning was uneventful. Felicity had gone quiet again, but he couldn’t blame her; skiing could take a lot out of you, especially when it was this cold. He wanted to leave on a high note, so he cut them a run short and led her down the easy way to the house, stopping frequently to let her rest and look at the scenery. 

The house was empty when they returned; Oliver entertained the idea of taking advantage of the alone time, but she really did look exhausted. Maybe if she slept on the drive home he could get an invitation to stay at her place tonight. He helped her out of her boots and sent her upstairs to get changed and packed with a kiss on the forehead. As soon as he’d put everything away he followed. 

Felicity was sitting on a bench in the foyer, her bag at her feet, by the time he came up from the basement. He took the stairs two at a time and set a new record changing. His mother had someone who came in and cleaned after these weekends; he left his ski clothes in a pile on the floor and hefted his duffle to his shoulder. 

“Hey,” he greeted her as he came downstairs. 

She smiled at him, but didn’t speak. Oliver grabbed her bag, then stood in front of her for another beat. 

“There’s someplace I want to take you before we head home. It’s not far.”

They turned right out of the driveway and traveled further up the mountain another mile before turning off at a sign that read “Alpine Village”. He heard Felicity make a little noise of surprise as they drove down the road; it was dotted with tiny houses that looked like Swiss chalets. Most of them were painted cheerful colors, with vintage skis crossed above the door and Adirondack chairs on the porches. 

Oliver pulled into the drive of a house painted a deep green with white gingerbread detailing and Felicity sighed with delight, but Oliver’s heart sank as soon as he saw it.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. 

A FOR SALE sign sat in the front window. 

He cut the engine and got out of the car, fishing the key to the front door out of his pocket. Felicity met him around the front of the vehicle and he took her hand to lead the way. 

The house obviously hadn’t been lived in recently; a thin layer of dust covered everything and the air was faintly musty. The main floor was one open space, living room and kitchen combined. A double size brass bed was crammed in as well. Oliver ran a hand through his hair. 

“This was the first house my parents owned on the mountain,” he explained. “They weren’t sure about having a permanent place up here, so they started small.” He pointed up at the loft area above them. “There’s two bedrooms up there, and a bath.”

Felicity looked enchanted; she let go of his hand to walk around the space, stopping when she got to the bed and glancing at him with a grin.

“I’m trying to picture your mother sleeping in the open living room,” she teased, and Oliver huffed a laugh.

“This is where I lived when I worked up here. I used the fireplace for heat all winter, so a buddy helped me get the bed downstairs.” He shrugged. “It’s probably not Feng Shui, or whatever, but it beat freezing to death.”

Felicity’s face lost its teasing look and she smiled softly.

“I can tell you love it here,” she said gently, taking his hand. He nodded a couple of times. 

“It’s the place where my soul resides.”

He wanted to say more, to explain the ridiculous-sounding answer that had just come out of his mouth: He wanted to tell her how great it was to be here when he was young and his parents were less preoccupied with running an empire. How the little house was either ice cold or a furnace, no in-between. About the time a family of raccoons moved into the stove vent and his mother threatened to burn the house down when she discovered them, but his father had talked her down in a gentle tone of voice Oliver had never before heard him use, and soon after they’d sent him to bed and smiled like idiots at each other all the next day. 

The Camp was being built by the time Thea was old enough to come up; she only spent a season in the tiny place, with her older brother constantly hovering because it was far from toddler-proof. She wouldn’t even remember it at this point, he thought with a sigh. 

There was so much to tell Felicity about this place and what it meant to him, but the FOR SALE sign had thrown him for a loop and broken his heart. 

“I do love it here,” he finally said softly, leaving it at that. 

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The rest of the morning’s skiing went by in a blur. Try as she might, Felicity couldn’t get the weird phantom texts out of her head; it might be Cooper, but she couldn’t figure out how he could be doing it, and she couldn’t research it until she got back home to her laptop. Even more disturbing was the fact that if he was following them, everyone was so bundled up it would be impossible to know where he might be.

She tried to relax and enjoy the view, and the company. Oliver was looking at her like she was the center of the universe, which was both exhilarating and terrifying. Had he fallen as hard for her as she had for him? And if so, what did that mean? His parents seemed to like her, but she was just a lowly IT girl with no father and a cocktail waitress for a mother; they would be looking for something better for their billionaire son. 

Just as she was really starting to be depressed they were back at the Camp and Oliver was helping her out of her boots. It didn’t take her long to change and pack; she waited patiently for him in the foyer until he came downstairs with his overnight bag. 

He hesitated in front of her, his bag and hers thrown over his shoulder like they weighed nothing. 

“There’s someplace I want to take you before we head home. It’s not far.”

Felicity gasped in surprise at the picturesque setting, the little Swiss cottages nestled in the snow and evergreens. She fell in love with the tiny green house as soon as Oliver pulled into the drive; the Camp was impressive, but this...this place felt like home.

She saw the FOR SALE sign and picked up on his reaction to it; it made her sad, because she didn’t want him to be unhappy. He obviously loved this place, and by the end of the tour she did too. 

“I can tell you love it here,” she said softly as she reached for his hand. 

“It’s the place where my soul resides,” he said, and Felicity melted. Was there no end to his perfection? She watched his eyes move around the room, drinking in the memories. “I do love it here,” he said, after a lengthy silence. 

On impulse she raised up on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth, which became a second kiss when he leaned into it, and then he turned his head to meet her mouth with his for more. Their kisses were languid and soothing; Oliver left her mouth to explore her jawline, tilting her head up between his fingers for better access. 

Felicity’s stomach swooped with excitement as he unzipped her jacket in one smooth motion and slid both hands inside. His fingers slipped under her sweater at the same time she went for his coat, suddenly needing to feel his skin under her fingers.

“Oliver,” she whispered in a gasp, “should we...? Here?” He was busy sliding her jacket off her shoulders, his kisses more desperate as they roved down her neck.

“Why not?” He did pause then, to look her in the eye. “Do you want to?” 

“God, yes,” she moaned, moving twice as fast to get at his shirt. “I just don’t want to get caught by a real estate agent,” she pointed out. His coat was now on the floor, and in one swift move his shirt followed. 

“Good point,” he agreed. He banded an arm around her back and walked them to the front door to flip the lock, his lips never leaving her skin. Oliver shivered once with a groan.

“God it’s cold in here,” he complained. He pulled back to glance at the fireplace and then looked at her. “I can have a fire going in two minutes,” he offered, gauging her interest with anxious eyes. 

Felicity only hesitated a second before she nodded, her overwhelming arousal competing with her sense of adventure; why have a chilly quickie when you could take your time in front of a roaring fire?

“You start the fire,” she ordered. “I’ll get the bags from the car.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stuff in this chapter wasn’t supposed to happen...Clearly I am no longer in charge of what goes on in this fic. It’s short, but seemed to work well self-contained.  
> Umm, definitely NSFW...

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As soon as Felicity slipped out the front door Oliver spun to the bed with a hand ruffling through his hair; those sheets were probably questionable. He bothered his lip with his teeth for just a second before taking the stairs two at a time to the loft; the giant plastic bag was just where he’d left it a couple of months ago. 

He returned to the first floor with a large, fluffy, creamy white rug in his arms. He’d first spotted it in a high-end shop in the resort village and something had possessed him to go in and purchase it on the spot, but the retirement party that led to the arrest had happened soon after and he’d never even had a chance to get it out of the bag.

Oliver spread it out on the floor in front of the fireplace just as Felicity was coming through the door with their bags.

“Oh wow,” she breathed, obviously impressed with his find. He glanced her way with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows and set to work building a fire. 

Within minutes he had it roaring away, and the little house began to heat. He tracked Felicity closing curtains around the room and double checking that the deadbolt was thrown on the front door, then poked at the logs one more time. 

The next time he turned around she was standing in front of him, naked.

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Felicity dropped to her knees on the white rug and almost swooned; she had never felt anything so soft. With a flick of her wrist she motioned for Oliver to finish getting undressed, and enjoyed the view as he complied before falling to the rug himself. They stayed that way, face-to-face on their knees, warm on the side facing the fire and glowing just a bit from the flickering light of the flames. 

Oliver lifted a hand and ran it through her hair, watching it fall through his fingers, silent. Felicity sighed with contentment as he touched her; there was no need to rush, no need to say anything. The occasional pops of the wood expanding in the heat of the fire were the only sounds as he leaned down and kissed her, feather light and chaste. He pulled away from her mouth to press his forehead to hers and they stilled, breathing together, eyes closed, reveling in the quiet. 

“I love you,” he whispered before capturing her lips again with more intensity. Felicity responded in kind, leaning closer until her breasts brushed against his chest and pulled a growl of need from deep inside him. He had both hands in her hair at this point, but dropped one to wrap around her waist and pull her flush against him, deepening the kiss until she moaned. 

The next minute she was under him, cushioned by the heavenly rug and smiling as he lowered himself down on top of her.

“God, this rug feels amazing,” he mumbled against her mouth, chuckling when she giggled in response.

“Is it new,” she asked breathlessly, turning her head to the side and running a hand back and forth across it lazily. Oliver nodded and switched his attention to her jawline, working his way steadily down in no hurry.

“Just got it out of the bag.” He was making slow but steady progress toward her collarbone, lifting off her long enough to shift down her torso. Felicity sighed and let her fingers run through his hair and scratch his scalp; he practically purred in response. She gazed at the vaulted ceiling, lost in the feel of his lips moving ever closer to her breasts, exploring all the places he had glossed over two nights ago. It was blissful. 

Her nipples were already stiff from the chill in the air; Oliver nuzzled them both before choosing one to focus his attention on, and her back lifted off the rug at the sensation of him pulling it into his mouth. She tried to bring her legs up to wrap around his hips and pull them closer together, but he grinned around her breast and used his right hand to push her left leg back flat; he slid his palm down over her inner thigh and brushed her clit with his thumb in feather-light strokes that left her gasping. 

“Oliver,” she pleaded, pushing against his shoulders to encourage him south as soon as possible. 

“Patience,” he whispered, and licked the underside of each breast to illustrate his reluctance to comply with her demands. 

Her bellybutton was next, an area he had mostly neglected last time. Oliver took his time now, sliding both hands under her ass and lifting her to meet his mouth, maddeningly close to where she wanted him. Felicity groaned with need as he nipped at her hip bones, one and then the other, and then returned to her stomach as if it was the point of the whole endeavor. 

Finally, FINALLY he scooted down a bit further and swiped his tongue over her center, diving in exactly where she needed him. Felicity tipped her pelvis up and moaned with pleasure, clutching that glorious rug in both fists as he worked her into a frenzy. There were no thoughts crowding out her pleasure today; she couldn’t form a coherent sentence if her life depended upon on it, especially after he slid a finger inside her and began to fuck her slowly and rhythmically. 

Her breathless babbles rose in pitch as he worked; he added a second finger and the wave took her, pulses of pleasure washing over her as she writhed against his mouth with a sob. He didn’t stop until she pushed at his shoulders to tell him to let go; the fingers stayed, pushing in and twisting lazily and not letting her come completely back down. 

Felicity’s eyes were closed, but she could hear him fiddling one handed with the condom wrapper; she held out a hand for it blindly and he chuckled in surprise as she ripped it open with her teeth and removed the rubber with her fingers in one swift move, eyes still closed. His pumping fingers were keeping her on the edge, needing more, like an itch in need of scratching. It was both fantastic and frustrating. 

“God you need to fuck me,” she groaned as he withdrew his fingers to roll on the protection. 

“Yes ma’am,” he replied. 

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The crackling fire, the rug, her gorgeous body: Oliver was in heaven. This, all of this; he wanted to stay in this moment forever inside this little house on the mountain, loving her and being loved. 

He paused for just a second to decide how he wanted this to go, and decided to push inside her and roll them at the same time, making her gasp as she suddenly found herself on top. Hands down, this rug was the best purchase he had ever made; its luxuriousness under him combined with the feel of his body sheathed inside her was almost sensory overload.

Felicity seemed to freeze for a second astride him but then she began to move, rolling her hips against him with her eyes closed and her head thrown back. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life; it brought actual tears to his eyes. Oliver let her find her rhythm first, curtailing his movements and letting her explore all the sensations, though he had to grit his teeth to keep control.

“Fuck,” he whispered once, when she shifted forward and pressed herself against his chest. Felicity reached for his hands, entwining their fingers and pushing both their hands into the rug above his head. She was holding him in place, not letting him explore while she rode him. 

“I want...” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence.

“What do you want, baby,” he prompted, panting. Felicity dropped her head and opened her eyes to stare at him.

“I want to watch you come.” Her sentence ended with a mewl and a sigh; she let go of his hands as he growled and gripped her hips, finally free to move inside her the way he wanted. She cried out with every thrust, finding his rhythm and matching it, her hands braced on his shoulders and her eyes on his. 

Oliver tried to close his eyes, lost in the sensations, but her small fingers grabbed his jaw and squeezed lightly to get his attention back on her face. Her own eyes closed involuntarily when he suddenly changed the angle of his pelvis, but his ragged breaths as he neared his release alerted her and she zeroed in on him once more.

“Come for me,” she whispered, an echo of his words in the gondola, and his world exploded into fireworks of overwhelming sensation. She gasped as she watched him, continuing to roll against him as his carefully-held control unraveled into sparks and sighs. 

His thrusts finally lost all rhythm and they both stilled; Felicity, draped over his chest, buried her face against his neck and wept.

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The sight of Oliver allowing himself to lose control and be completely vulnerable beneath her was the last straw in a very emotional weekend. Body still humming from arousal and heart bursting with feeling, Felicity burrowed against his neck as a sob bubbled up from her soul and overtook her. She cried against him, shuddering and gasping and soaking him with her tears. 

“Are you okay, honey,” he whispered, holding very still as he waited for an answer, probably thinking she’d lost her mind. Felicity nodded against him as a fresh wave of sobs took her; he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight.

She finally managed to pull herself together and sat up, brushing her fingertips beneath her lashes to wipe away the moisture. 

“Sorry,” she whispered with a self-conscious giggle. Oliver rubbed up and down her arms soothingly, taking the time to rearrange an errant piece of hair stuck to her face with his fingers. 

“Hey, there’s nothing to be sorry for. Okay?”

Felicity nodded with a sniff, suddenly aware that he was still inside her. She lifted off him with a sigh and he groaned at the loss. 

“Did you...?” He looked hesitant as he sat up and removed the condom, like he was getting a performance evaluation from his boss. The mental picture almost made her giggle; she shook her head quickly but smiled softly at him as she ran a hand across his shoulders. 

“I did before, remember?” She grinned, remembering the gondola. “Twice.”

Oliver looked back over his shoulder at her, apparently not satisfied with that answer.

“But not...?” 

Felicity sighed; for a guy with this much experience, he sure seemed reluctant to use his words. 

“During intercourse,” she finished for him with mock irritation. “No. I never have that way. But who cares? That’s just how I work.”

She saw a new light come into his eyes at the end of her sentence and her stomach swooped in anticipation.

“Challenge accepted,” he growled, turning back and flipping her onto her stomach on the gorgeous rug. 

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Oliver worked her back up with agonizing slowness, buying time for his own recovery; he had a pretty quick turnaround, but it wasn’t instantaneous. 

A gentle massage was just the thing: It was a chance for her to feel that rug along every inch of her body, and a great way for him to get a good long look at the smooth lines of her back and her impeccable, heart-shaped ass. It was very distracting, that; his hands kept straying over it when he was supposed to be rubbing her shoulders. Felicity sighed and giggled at one point to let him know he was falling down on the job. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled. He pressed his thumbs along either side of her spine, freeing his fingertips to slip down her sides and stroke the edges of her breasts. She lifted voluntarily to allow him to slip his hands under and cup them. Oliver fingered her nipples, gone soft against the rug and the warmth; he rolled them between his fingers to stiffen them and she moaned in response.

She was now closer to being on all fours, and his dick twitched in appreciation; this might be a faster recovery than he first thought. He released one breast to run his fingertips down her back to the seam, then over her ass and further under until he reached her clit. Felicity gasped at his touch but he didn’t linger past gathering her wetness on his fingers and dragging them back up to press between her cheeks. 

“Have you ever...” he trailed off, still finding it hard to form sentences around her. She tensed for a second against his exploring fingers, but then relaxed and let him push further. 

“No,” she gasped. He didn’t have much experience in this arena either, to be honest, but he did know there were some extremely sensitive nerve endings in there that might tip her over the edge even faster. Oliver shifted the other hand back to her clit, stroking and pressing gently. Her hips bucked against his hands once and she moaned wantonly.

“Oliver,” she gasped, a plea for him to do more, and his dick jumped, bumping against her impatiently. He pulled his hands away long enough to sheath himself in a new condom, then thrust inside her without warning, his hands back to working her over. 

Felicity rocked back against him so hard he gasped; he’d normally be able to go much longer the second time, but not if she kept that up. 

“Fuck me,” she hissed, an oath or an order, he couldn’t tell which. He held a steady pace, long slow thrusts that pulled almost all the way out of her every time. Oliver knew he’d found the right angle when the sounds she was making suddenly changed; he focused down on hitting the same spot over and over while one hand barely brushed her clit and the other teased her puckered entrance. 

Felicity’s cries became louder and more urgent and he suddenly feared she would send him over the edge before she had a chance to go; he closed his eyes and clamped his teeth together. 

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It was safe to say she had never experienced this much sensation at once; Felicity gripped the rug in both fists and rocked back against him desperately, so so close to release she could taste it. His fingers zapped any coherent thoughts from her head, and all she could do was breathe deeply and let the climax take over as he pumped inside her. 

This orgasm was different: It wasn’t the soft, long-lasting waves she could give herself with her fingers, or the hard shuddering ones he created with his tongue. This one was a sharp explosion, stealing the air from her lungs as she stiffened against him and tried to keep her arms from buckling. 

Oliver must have sensed it too, because he left off her clit to band an arm around her middle and stabilize her, somehow never letting up on the angle and rhythm of his thrusts. Her release was silent, and other than a single grunt a few seconds later, his was as well. 

He stilled inside her, obviously as spent as she, and bent forward to lean his forehead against her back. 

“Holy shit, Felicity,” he whispered, shaking his head against her and making her gasp a laugh. Oliver pulled out as slowly as possible; clearly neither of them wanted this to be over. He took her with him to the rug, both of them collapsing on their sides to watch the flames and catch their breaths. 

She fell asleep with his arm flopped over her middle, her front warmed by the fire and her back warmed by Oliver’s body curled around her. She dreamed about the little house, and rugs that felt like sleeping on angels and puppies. She was awakened some time later by Oliver’s hand lazily stroking her hip.

“Can we just stay here,” she murmured, stretching against him with a sigh. Oliver hummed in agreement but shifted away from her to get up and she huffed, disappointed. 

“I need to get you home so you can rest,” he reminded her as he scooped up his clothes and headed for the stairs. He paused with a foot on the first step. “Besides, we haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Felicity rolled onto her stomach, propped her chin on her fists, and crossed her feet prettily in the air.

“You mean ‘I’ haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she purred as she batted her eyelashes at him. Oliver grinned from ear to ear and pushed on up the stairs. 

Ugh. The rug felt so good; she face planted into it for another second before pushing up and off to retrieve her clothes with a sigh.

————————————————————-

Despite his insistence that they needed to get on the road, Oliver hung back right as they were walking out the door, his eyes roaming the space one last time before he closed the door. He had both their duffles; Felicity was carrying the bag with the rug inside.

She dozed on the drive home, curled up with her head resting against the window. Oliver kept the radio turned down low, but when she heard “Brown Eyed Girl” come on she couldn’t help smiling to herself.


	25. Chapter 25

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Raisa was waiting when Oliver came in the door from the garage, a napkin full of Russian Tea Cakes held out for him; she pulled her hand back when he would’ve scooped them up, making sure she had his full attention. 

“Mr Robert is waiting to see you,” she said, holding her other hand out for his duffel and trading the treats for it. Oliver shot her an ‘Is it bad?’ look and the housekeeper shrugged, unsure. He waited until he was out of her hearing before he swore under his breath. 

Robert was in his study; Oliver knocked softly on the open door to alert him. He’d used the walk from the kitchen to decide whether or not to bring up the little green house being on the market and came to the conclusion that, all things considered, it would be better not to lead with that subject.

“Hey son,” his father greeted him. “Get Felicity home and safe?” Oliver stopped himself from shuffling his feet bashfully as he nodded; Robert had never asked after one of his girlfriends before. 

“Raisa said you wanted to see me,” he prompted, the weekend suddenly catching up to him and making him long for a hot shower and his bed. 

“Yes. I’m calling the Board together to have another look at that proposal we were discussing Saturday night. The one from that IT employee...” He waved his hand around to illustrate how he’d forgotten his name but it didn’t really matter.

“Curtis,” Oliver supplied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. 

“Yes.” Robert shifted forward on the leather sofa and smiled. “I’d like you to be there. I’ll know the time tomorrow, but the meeting will be sometime Tuesday morning. Just plan to come for the day.”

Oliver ran a hand through his hair and tried to stamp down his frustration.

“I, uh, really need to get some hours in at the nursing home. I’m getting—“

Robert Queen’s thunderous look of disapproval stopped him mid-sentence.

“If I need you to be at QC, you will be at QC. You are in no position to negotiate, Oliver.”

Oliver focused on the floor to keep the rage off his face. It pissed him off that they had all dismissed Curtis’s idea until somebody figured out how to make money off of it. And now that he finally had a handle on digging himself out of the mess he’d made, his efforts were being belittled.

He nodded anyway, choking out a goodnight as he turned to go. Even at this age there were some battles he couldn’t hope to win. He headed off to his room determined to find the bright side of this new development; if he was at QC he could definitely take Felicity to lunch. Maybe he and Curtis could get together Monday night and rehearse their talking points so they had a better chance of pleading their case. 

Felicity should definitely be in on that too, he thought with a smile as he took the stairs two at a time. 

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Oliver would’ve stayed all night, would probably have moved in if she’d asked as he was walking her into her apartment. But she begged off, giving him several sweet kisses before shoving him out the door in favor of a long hot shower and a load or two of laundry. But first...

“Cisco, I love you dearly, but you’ve got to beat it for a second,” Felicity ordered as soon as his face appeared on the screen next to Caitlin. 

“But—“

“Nope. Sorry. Out you go.”

“Aw, man,” he whined as Caitlin shooed him out of the room. She raised her eyebrows expectantly at her best friend; Felicity took a deep breath.

“I did it.”

“You did what?”

“It. The Big O.”

“You did?”

“Yep.”

“During...?”

“Uh huh.” Felicity nodded vigorously and both of them burst into smiles, mock high-fiving their screens.

“So, Oliver Queen has the magic touch, eh?” Caitlin looked impressed. “How did he—“

“Okay, there will be no detail sharing,” Felicity interrupted, “but it was fantastic and amazing and, well, wow.”

“I’m so happy for you, sweetie,” Caitlin gushed. A couple of loud bangs floated from the bedroom down the hall and she rolled her eyes. “Can I call Cisco back now? He’ll just start destroying things if we ignore him.”

The three of them continued their usual rundown of the weekend’s adventures, although most of it centered around Felicity. She opened her mouth once to tell them about her suspicions that Cooper had been on the mountain, but the events that spooled out in her head seemed too ridiculous to be true. 

They signed off with virtual hugs and kisses and Felicity dragged herself off to start the laundry and get ready for bed. She was just stepping back into the room from her shower when her phone chimed; considering the events of the weekend that involved her phone were mostly traumatic, she took a deep breath before she checked the screen, but it was from Oliver:

HEY BEAUTIFUL. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING? ;)

Felicity bit her lip and grinned before answering:

NOTHING. HOW ‘BOUT YOU?

Ten seconds later her phone rang.

“Um, hello?”

“Were you serious,” he asked, sounding a little short of breath. Felicity went tingly all over.

“Completely serious, and completely naked,” she teased; she heard him growl over the phone and she giggled.

“You’re gonna make me forget why I called,” he grumbled adorably. 

“I’m sorry. Why did you call?” Felicity plopped onto her bed and fell back to stare at the ceiling.

“The QC Board is going to reconsider Curtis’s technology proposal. On Tuesday. My father wants me to be there too.”

Felicity sat up fast. “Oliver, that’s fantastic! Maybe you can help change their minds about trying to make a profit off this idea.”

Oliver made a noise that told her he wasn’t so sure. 

“Maybe. I think I need to meet up with Curtis to go over the talking points at least. It’ll have to be tomorrow night.”

“If you send me the pictures you took I can put a PowerPoint together,” she offered, fighting back a yawn.

“I wondered if you’d want to work with us,” Oliver said softly, clearly pleased; it made her smile.

“Of course I want to. I’ll talk to Curtis first thing tomorrow and text you,” she promised. 

“Great. Until then, sleep well.” There was a breath of a pause, and then he added, “I wish I was there with you.”

Felicity smiled into the phone, her toes curling with delight.

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

“Goodnight.”

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Her phone chimed again as she was climbing into bed and she pounced on it, anticipating the photos from Oliver: What she saw instead made her recoil in terror.

Photo after photo popped up on her screen and then faded almost as fast: Oliver and Felicity skiing, her from the back as she sat in front of the fire—a shot of two figures in a gondola that made her shudder—a dark pic of their crowded table at Bunny’s. The last photo was of the little green chalet with their car parked out front. Felicity stared at it in horror as she thought of what she and Oliver were likely doing when Cooper had taken that photo. A single text followed:

LET HIM GO OR I KILL HIM.

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There wasn’t enough coffee—not nearly enough—to get her through this Monday. Felicity almost laid her head down on her desk, but her supervisor was a roamer, and he was due past her any minute on his way to his ten o’clock smoke break. 

Despite having disappeared from her phone, the pictures Cooper had sent her continued to march through her head the rest of the night; she’d been too terrified and heartsick to sleep, kept up by the threat of her ex-boyfriend and the impending break up with her current boyfriend.

She had to do it. She had to get Oliver as far away from herself as possible. Cooper had never been a particularly violent person, but he’d probably seen—and learned—a lot in prison, and he certainly had a good reason to want revenge on her. 

For the four hundredth time that morning she thought about calling Agent Diggle, but he’d already crossed the country once for her with no results, plus she had no hard evidence whatsoever to show him. Next time, Felicity promised herself. The next weird picture or text that came through she would at least get a screenshot.

When her phone chimed a second later she almost jumped out of her skin.

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Oliver made it to the nursing home in time to help get everyone to the dining room for breakfast. He knocked smartly on the doorframe to Mary’s room with a charming smile and a cheerful “Good morning.” 

Mary was still in bed.

“It’s time for breakfast,” he elaborated, stepping into the room to get a better look at her. Mary grimaced and flapped a hand at him.

“Not today,” she croaked. Oliver crossed to her bedside and knelt down to take her hand. He warmed her ice-cold fingers against his palm.

“You have to eat, Miss Mary,” he admonished gently, managing to keep his growing concern from showing. “I can bring you a tray.”

They locked eyes, her faded blue to his brilliant crystalline, and she finally sighed and nodded, defeated by his stare.

“I’ll be right back,” Oliver promised. A tiny knot of fear took up residence near his heart. 

By the time he got back with her breakfast Mary was sitting up and her nurse was standing by with her morning meds. She seemed a bit more alert; Oliver shot a glance at the nurse but couldn’t get a read on her thoughts. He sat in the chair next to Mary’s bed and finally got a nod of approval from the nurse as she turned to go. 

“Jelly?” He did the honors, slathering it on and handing it to her gingerly by one of the corners. She nibbled at it before reaching out a shaky hand toward the small glass of orange juice. He held it for her but let her tip it. 

She seemed much improved after the toast and half the scrambled eggs. He convinced her to finish the juice and called it a win, removing the tray to a side table and coming back to sit. 

“Tell me about your weekend,” Mary demanded pleasantly.

“Don’t you want to get dressed first? I can call one of the aides.”

She shook her head no and plucked at the collar of her nightgown.

“Do you know how long it’s been since a handsome man saw me in my negligee? Forget it.”

Oliver ran a hand through his hair bashfully and huffed a laugh.

“Okay, you win.” He filled her in on his skiing adventures with Felicity, taking care to keep it PG, though she pushed for those details too.

“Mary—“

“Don’t ‘Mary’ me. Did you do the deed?”

Oliver made a strangled noise at the back of his throat, acutely embarrassed, but grinned at her all the same. Mary gave a little whoop and smacked his arm smartly.

“Good for you! Do you love her?”

The question came out of nowhere and he was nodding enthusiastically before he could even think about it. Mary nodded back slowly with a soft smile.

“I believe you do.” She reached out a hand for one of his, pulled it into her lap, and patted it. “She’s good for you, young man. Don’t let her go.”

“I don’t intend to,” Oliver said fervently, more choked up then he was ready to admit. He blinked a couple of times to get himself pulled together as she squeezed his hand.   
He cleared his throat and sat back, thoroughly embarrassed by his show of emotion. 

“Speaking of Felicity, I should check in.” Mary dutifully released his hand to let him extract his phone from his pocket. 

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GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL.

It was from Oliver. Felicity’s shoulders relaxed in a huge sigh of relief, but her fingers still shook as she answered.

HEY.

DID YOU ASK CURTIS ABOUT GETTING TOGETHER?

Frack. She’d totally forgotten. Instead of answering Felicity popped up from her desk to scan the room for Curtis, with no luck.

SORRY. HAVEN’T SEEN HIM. She bit her lip and sent the text. 

OKAY. CAN YOU MEET LATER? NOT JUST FOR BUSINESS. ;)

Felicity took a shaky breath and groaned. This was it. Cut him loose, Smoak, she told herself sternly. Her fingers were hovering over the keys when he sent another.

I LOVE YOU.

The words became a blur as Felicity’s vision dissolved into tears. She dropped the phone onto the desk and her face into her hands.

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“She answer yet,” Mary asked from the far side of the puzzle table. She had barely touched any pieces; at the moment both hands were in her lap.

Oliver sighed and ran a hand through his hair without making eye contact.

“I’m sure she’s just busy at work,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. That worried feeling he’d had Sunday morning was back; it made him want to jump up and storm Queen Consolidated. 

“We’re about done with this puzzle, Miss Mary,” he said then, attempting to change the subject. “It would be nice if we were all together when the last piece goes in,” he added softly, mostly to himself. 

He wasn’t watching, but a wicked gleam came to Mary’s eye; she slipped a slightly shaky hand up to the table and captured a single piece, tucking it up into the opposite sleeve next to her ever-present tissue with clumsy fingers. 

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Felicity was too busy double checking the location on the job ticket she’d been assigned to see who had stepped onto the elevator until the person spoke.

“Good afternoon, Felicity.”

She first noticed the Jimmy Choo’s; her eyes lifted slowly to settle on Moira Queen’s smiling face. The other woman’s head tipped slightly in curiosity as Felicity attempted to process this new development. 

“Hello. Mrs Queen,” she mostly whispered.

“I hope you enjoyed your weekend at the Camp,” Moira prompted.

“I did...very much. Thank you,” Felicity answered with a weak smile. She forced herself to look at the matriarch and not the elevator panel, though she was desperate to know how long this torture was going to last. Moira shifted toward her with a conspiratorial smile. 

“Robert and I are so happy that you and Oliver have found each other.” She leaned in and dropped her voice. “After his arrest we worried that he’d never get his life together. But I think that court-ordered community service at the nursing home has really been a blessing in disguise.”

Felicity blinked at her silently, dumbstruck, and Moira reached out a hand and laid it on her arm.

“Thank you for supporting him through all this.”

She managed to nod vaguely as the elevator doors opened. Moira patted her arm and walked out of the car, leaving her to stare blindly after. 

———————————————————————-

Felicity closed out her ticket and forced her feet to carry her to Curtis’s desk, mumbled Oliver’s request to meet up, and left him with Oliver’s number so the two of them could make their own arrangements. 

Then she clocked out and went straight home. 

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They met at Big Belly, and though Felicity’s email containing the promised PowerPoint showed up an hour into their session, there was no other evidence that she was planning to attend. Oliver checked his phone every four minutes, a fact Curtis finally felt the need to point out. 

“Sorry,” Oliver sighed, flipping it face down on the table and glancing at his cold fries, too late to salvage at this point. He shifted his gaze to the man across from him.

“Did she say anything to you?”

Curtis looked like he was trying to keep from rolling his eyes. 

“Sorry, no. Nothing.” 

He tried to get them back on topic, but Oliver couldn’t stay focused, his eyes flying to the door every time it opened. Hoping it was her. Curtis finally sighed in defeat.

“I think I have this handled, actually. You should go check on Felicity.”

The sentence wasn’t even completely out of his mouth by the time Oliver had snatched up his coat and scooted out of the booth with a promise to see him in the morning. 

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She was curled up on the couch, full of mint chip and dread, when the doorbell rang. Felicity froze; it could be Oliver, come to check on her, or Cooper, come to kill her.

At this point she would rather the latter, honestly.

Felicity tiptoed to the door and peeked out the peephole: It was Oliver. A little moan left her as she dropped back down onto her heels, heart pounding. Maybe if she didn’t answer he’d eventually go away.

“Felicity? Was that you?”

He’d heard the moan, then. Frack. She wrung her hands and paced in a tight circle before grabbing the doorknob with one hand, the deadbolt with the other.

“Hey,” Oliver said, soft and surprised and oh so worried. His hair looked like he’d been running a hand through it constantly. She kept her body in the space the open door made, and though he looked like he wanted nothing more than to push forward into her apartment, Oliver held his ground. His hand found his hair again and tugged at it in uncertainty.

“You okay,” he asked. 

Try as she might, Felicity couldn’t make eye contact. She focused somewhere near his bellybutton, one foot on top of the other and her gut twisting. 

“We missed you...at Big Belly,” Oliver tried again. He lifted one arm and rested his hand against the doorframe, and the memory of Cooper, casually leaning in that exact pose in the doorway of her dorm room as he took the first step toward tearing her down to nothing made her sick to her stomach. 

“Oliver, I can’t...” Her voice caught and she swallowed, but he jumped in before she could continue.

“It’s okay, Curtis and I can handle the presentation, no problem. Thanks for the PowerPoint, by the way. It—“

“No,” she interrupted, running over whatever he might say next. “Not tomorrow. I can’t. Be with you.”

Felicity made herself look him in the eye as she delivered the blow. 

The transformation of Oliver’s face from confusion to realization broke her heart into a million tiny pieces. She clamped her lips together to keep from taking it all back immediately; her hands gripped the doorknob and the wall so she wouldn’t reach for him. 

“Felicity...” he whispered, her name a broken thing coming out of his mouth with a gasp. 

“Please don’t. Please,” she pleaded, desperate to get away from the devastation in his eyes. “Don’t ask me to explain. I just can’t.”

His hand dropped from the doorframe and for a second she thought he would try to touch her, but his fingers only clenched into fists at his sides, empty and lost. 

“Goodbye.” Felicity stepped back and closed the door before she could change her mind.


	26. Chapter 26

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Oliver spent innumerable minutes in his car outside her building, staring out the windshield at nothing. Part of him wanted to go back and break down the door; the other part of him just wanted to drive away and keep on going.

His life had never been what anyone would consider ‘put together’, but the wheels had really come off about the time he went to college. Losing Tommy had put a bullet in any progress Oliver might have made toward figuring out what kind of person he wanted to be; everything since had just been keeping his head above water enough to survive.

Until the day he met Felicity Smoak, that is.

Did she discover his secret? Did someone tell her? It was hard to say; she’d always had a habit of retreating from him from time to time. But this time...something must have spooked her for good, the way a secret arrest record might. 

A time machine, that’s what he needed. He could go back to the day they met over the scattered puzzle pieces and start again, explain everything up front. Or maybe go back a few weeks further and stop himself from pissing on a fucking cop car.

Oliver found his shoulders lifting for real as he mentally shrugged: While he was at it he could go back to the night Tommy died and call him back from that balcony. 

Or go stand under it.

He shivered violently at the morbid thought and finally put the big SUV in gear so he could pull away. 

Just like she did.

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Despite her guilt and heartache, Felicity fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep and didn’t wake until the sun was peeking over the horizon. Restfulness was supposed to bring clarity, but all it brought her—after those first few seconds of blissful forgetfulness—was a rush of shame and longing. 

She checked her phone first, but there was nothing: No texts or photos from Cooper, and nothing from Oliver. She went into her messages to double check, but all she found was his last text to her the day before: I LOVE YOU. Fresh tears threatened, but she clamped her teeth together and forced them back. 

She was going to be late for work at this point, so Felicity decided a fortifying cup of coffee couldn’t hurt. She was most of the way through it when she remembered Oliver would be at QC for his presentation with Curtis. Her hands began to shake as she pictured running into him in the hallway, or worse, having him confront her at her desk. 

She briefly weighed the loss of a sick day against the pain and humiliation of an angry, spurned Oliver Queen demanding answers in front of her co-workers before texting in sick with shaking fingers. 

It only took a couple hours of restless pacing through her apartment to convince her that an entire day as a shut-in was not the answer...but maybe Miss Mary was; with Oliver at QC all day Felicity would be safe to go to the nursing home. She was dressed and out the door in record time, remembering at the last minute to bring the spa gloves and snow angel ornament she’d bought the week before as a surprise.

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Oliver squeezed onto the packed elevator with a frustrated sigh. A sleepless night had ended in him finally crashing at 6am and missing his alarm; he had three minutes to get up 39 floors and into the executive conference room. 

Curtis had texted him approximately 439 times in the last hour.

He was trying to push through the fuzz of fatigue and remember his part of the presentation, but pictures of Felicity kept floating in front of his talking points. She was here, in the building, starting her day a free woman. Eligible. Was that why she’d called it off? Was there someone else? That idea—and about a hundred others—had tormented him all through the night. 

One floor short of his destination the elevator stopped and admitted Walter Steele, whose eyes lit up when he saw Oliver.

“Good morning,” the older man offered pleasantly with a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Walter.” 

Oliver didn’t have the heart for his usual cheeky banter, and Walter noticed the lack of cheer immediately. They rode in silence to the final floor, but the CFO stayed by his side when they exited the car, leaning closer as they strode together down the hall to the conference room.

“I was pleasantly surprised to hear that you would be one of our presenters this morning, Oliver,” he offered quietly. “I’ve heard a bit about this idea of your friend’s, and I think it’s wonderful.”

Oliver pasted on the patented Queen Smile and shrugged modestly. He could still play the part, even distracted and heartsick.

“I had virtually nothing to do with the conception of it, but I believe in it wholeheartedly, and I want it to succeed.” Oliver stopped just outside the conference room door and stuck out a hand. “Thank you, Walter.”

They shook warmly before Oliver turned and slipped through the doorway to find Curtis having a small conniption at the front of the room. 

“I’m here. Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and let it drop to flatten his tie as he watched Curtis ready Felicity’s PowerPoint on the laptop. A quick glance around the room told him Felicity herself was not present, nor was his father. Oliver cleared his throat before he attempted to say her name.

“Is, um, Felicity coming?”

Curtis flicked a glance to him—out of surprise or annoyance, it was hard to tell.

“I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her.”

Oliver nodded his understanding just as Robert Queen swept into the room followed by his EA and Walter, who had apparently waited to make his entrance until the CEO had arrived. 

Oliver took a deep, fortifying breath and tried to clear his head as the door closed and all heads turned to him.

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The Polar Vortex had obviously shifted overnight; the snow was melting rapidly in the warm sunshine as Felicity pulled into the nursing home parking lot. The air temperature had returned to normal winter standards, so she left her coat in the car when she got out.

Carol was bustling through the lobby as she entered and gave her a cheerful smile.

“Felicity! What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi Carol.” Felicity smiled softly. “Just here to see Miss Mary.” She waved vaguely in the direction of the residents’ hallway, hoping to avoid an awkward conversation about Oliver. Carol’s brow knit in thought.

“Mary has a visitor at the moment, her lawyer I think, but as soon as they’re finished I’d be happy to bring her down to the puzzle table.”

Carol grinned widely and winked before hurrying away to her next project, so Felicity took herself down to the common area to wait. The puzzle had come a long way since she’d been here last; the sky was complete, and most of the wildflowers. The only thing left was the mountain. 

She was there fifteen minutes before Carol reappeared, her standard smile slipping just a little.

“Mary is free, but she isn’t up to coming all the way down here. She asked if you’d come to her room.”

Felicity’s brow crinkled but she stood immediately and went straight to her room, her funny little gifts clutched in her hands. 

She knocked lightly on the doorframe; Mary was sitting up in bed.

“Hey Mary. How are you?” She slipped into the room and dropped her purse to sit in the chair next to her bed. Mary smiled wryly.

“Just tired, my girl. Just tired.”

Felicity held out her presents; Mary admired the ornament and stroked the soft gloves as they lay in her lap. 

“What’s wrong,” she asked then, her sharp eyes holding Felicity’s.

Felicity wrung her hands in her lap and looked away, suddenly ashamed.

“Oliver and I broke up, Mary. I, um, I broke up with him, I mean.” Felicity’s hands began to shake. “Why did I break up with him?” And just like that the dam broke; she was sobbing into her hands. 

“Poor lamb. Come here.” Mary held out her arms and Felicity dropped forward onto her knees at the old woman’s bedside. Mary stroked her hair and cooed until she’d cried herself out. 

“Did you fight,” Mary asked quietly. Felicity shook her head quickly and reached for a tissue.

“No, he was wonderful. Just wonderful. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t...”She trailed off, unsure what else to say. Mary reached for Felicity’s free hand and patted it gently.

“Mary,” she sniffed, finally looking up. “Did you know? About his arrest, I mean?” Mary frowned, non-plussed.

“Is that what this is about? His community service?” She sounded genuinely angry; Felicity sat up straighter. “I told him he needed to tell you. Did he tell you?”

Felicity shook her head no rapidly and sniffed again.

“His mother did.”

“And that’s why you dropped him?”

Felicity took a breath and considered. The lie by omission had confused her, but it hadn’t played into her decision to break it off; that was 100% Cooper. Still, she couldn’t exactly tell Mary the REAL reason, could she.

In the end she only shrugged, and left it at that. Mary continued to pat her hand.

“I know he did a stupid thing, but he really is a good boy.” She leaned a little closer. “And he loves you.”

Felicity wanted to cry again but she sucked in her breath and held it until she could get herself under control.

“I know,” she whispered, mostly to herself.

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They left the conference room and made a beeline for the coffee shop on the first floor. Curtis was sweating; Oliver had a killer headache. Neither spoke until they were sitting across from each other, coffee in hand. 

“That sucked,” Curtis said finally, directly into his cup. Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. 

“It really did.”

Curtis looked up at him. 

“You think they’ll really do it? Turn my idea into a cash cow from the government? Can they DO that?”

Oliver grimaced. “I think they can, Curtis. I’m sorry.” 

God, this day was shitty. 

—————————————————————-

Wednesday didn’t improve.

Carol met him at the front door of the nursing home first thing in the morning with an apologetic smile and handful of notices she was taping to the windows.

“Flu season has finally hit us, Oliver. Essential staff only, I’m afraid. And no visitors until we get the all clear.”

Oliver ran a hand through his hair. “How long, do you think?”

Carol patted his arm with a shrug. “I’ll call you as soon as I get the word. I’m sorry, Oliver.”

He broke down and called Sara Wednesday night. 

She was silent as he relayed the bewildering story of the breakup; even after he’d finally rambled to a halt she waited two beats before speaking.

“Do you want some company,” she asked softly. Oliver sighed.

“Sara, I can’t. I—“

“Damn right you can’t,” she cut him off triumphantly. “That was a test, Ollie, and you just passed! You know what that means, right?”

“Uhhh...”

“It means you really do love her. If you didn't call for a hookup you obviously called for my sage advice, so listen up.”

“O-okay...”

“Give the girl some space, but don’t you give up on her, Oliver. I have a good feeling about this one. Felicity’s your person.”

Oliver huffed a laugh despite the pain; Sara seriously was the best. 

“Now, get your ass up to the mountain and ski with me the rest of the week. I’m off the next two days.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A couple days on the mountain might just do him some good. Oliver paused before signing off, a little “um” escaping him when she would’ve ended the call.

“Hey. Thanks, Sara.”

He could practically hear her grinning, if that was even a thing. 

“Love you, Ollie. Ya big dumb pine tree.”

They were both laughing as they hung up.

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Felicity woke up every morning determined to make the new day a fresh start: No more tears, no more pining over Oliver, no more sitting up half the night missing him. 

Every day she disappointed herself. 

Late Friday afternoon Curtis finally snapped; he’d been pretty grumpy all week himself, she’d noticed. He rolled his desk chair over to her desk with a scowl. She pushed herself backwards a bit before she could help it, he looked so mad.

“Listen up, missy,” he scolded. “Enough is enough. You know you love him, and that man—“he pointed dramatically towards the other corner of the room, inexplicably—“is miserable without you. Trust me.” Curtis pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I had to spend all day Tuesday with him. It was pathetic.”

Felicity dropped her eyes to her hands, contrite. 

“Curtis, I know. It’s...complicated.”

“No, Felicity, taxes are complicated. Unless you use the EZ form.” He shook his head quickly. “Not the point. THIS. This is not complicated. Do not lose him.”

He went on to suggest an evening of Chinese food and Netflix, but Felicity shook her head.

“It’s not Chinese Friday. That’s next week.”

Curtis was clearly taken aback. 

“Every Friday should be Chinese Friday. Come on.” He looped his arm through hers—rather awkwardly, considering their height difference—and marched her to the elevators, babbling away about taking it away to his place, so he could introduce her to Paul.

They had a rather spirited argument over steamed versus fried dumplings and were both laughing as they pushed their way out the door onto the sidewalk, their arms full of food. Felicity was looking back and up at Curtis when she plowed straight into him.

“Hi Felicity,” Cooper said softly.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday Special! It’s too hot to do anything but write—enjoy!

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He was leaner than she remembered, more solid. His breath fogged in the cold as he looked down at her, a slow predatory smile spreading across his face.

Felicity froze in terror.

“You look good,” he said quietly. The way a lover might say it. Behind her Curtis cleared his throat. 

“Um, hi. I’m Curtis.” 

She felt him step closer behind her, clearly picking up on the weird vibes of the moment, but she couldn’t make her body move. Cooper glanced up at him once, annoyed, but then did a double-take at Curtis’s superior height. He tipped his chin in a bro hello but didn’t give his name. 

She felt Curtis catch her elbow with his hand and blinked a couple of times, still unable to speak. 

“Um, our food’s getting cold, so we’d better get going. My VERY LARGE boyfriend is waiting.” 

She watched Cooper’s eyes flick away to Curtis once more, but he didn’t try to stop her. They were moving down the sidewalk when she heard his voice float out over rush hour traffic. 

“See you soon, Felicity.”

Felicity swallowed hard as Curtis hauled her down the street toward the parking garage.

“Man, that guy was CREEPY. How do you know him?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she mumbled, afraid to look back but more afraid not to. She glanced over her shoulder; the sidewalk in front of the restaurant was empty. 

“Was he threatening you? That sounded like a threat.” Curtis stopped long enough to pull her around to face him. “Are you in trouble?”

Felicity was so scared her teeth were chattering, but she’d kept this damn secret for so long...

“It’s complicated,” she replied miserably to the sidewalk. 

Curtis huffed an exasperated sigh.

“Well we are going back to my place and calling the police. This is ridiculous.”

Felicity had a terrifying flash of Cooper hurting Curtis and his boyfriend just as he’d already threatened Oliver and her heart stopped.

“No! I mean, could you just take me home?”

“Are you going to call the police,” he demanded.

Felicity bit her lip. “There’s someone I can call.” 

Curtis cocked a skeptical eyebrow. 

“I will call him as soon as we get there. I promise.”

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Oliver let himself into the house with a tired sigh. During the day, on the slopes, he could almost forget about his heartache. But as soon as he returned to the Camp, all dark and silent, the memories flooded back. 

He would’ve preferred to stay in the little cabin, but the image of Felicity spread out on that rug in front of the fire left him gasping. Nope. He couldn’t bear staying there. Even his own bedroom at the Camp was off limits, it seemed; he only had to look at the bed to remember their first time. In the end he crashed in the guys’ bunk room. If he was going to be miserable, it might as well be in a twin sized bed. 

He’d brought no food with him—although there was always something to scrounge from the gourmet kitchen—so every evening he’d found himself at Bunny’s, haunting the bar and looking so glum the bartender passed him his first beer of each night on the house. 

By the time he’d stepped out of the shower Sara had already texted, checking to see if he was on his way to the bar; she’d almost convinced him to extend his stay through the weekend, since his parents were out of the country and not coming up.

Oliver was pulling a tee shirt over his head when his phone rang.

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Curtis insisted on staying until he knew someone else was coming to help, so Felicity left him in the living room on the phone to Paul while she shut herself in the bedroom. 

It rang so many times she was sure her call would go to voicemail, but at the last second he picked up.

“Hello?” He sounded tentative, even a bit nervous.

“Um, John? It’s Felicity.”

There was a pause—long enough for her to wonder if she had the wrong number—but then he said “Just a second”. It sounded like he put his hand over the phone briefly before he spoke again.

“Hey Felicity, this isn’t the best time—“

“He’s here. Cooper’s here in Starling City. He was outside the Chinese restaurant waiting for me and last weekend he stalked me at a ski resort and tonight he said he’d see me later and I didn’t know who else to call—“

“Felicity!”

“Sorry. I just don’t know what to do, John.”

She heard him sigh deeply and bit her lip in embarrassment.

“I shouldn’t have called. I’ll just go—“

“No,” he interrupted again, sounding frantic to keep her on the line. “I—hang on.” He cut himself off and Felicity heard him talking in low tones to someone else. She leaned forward and listened harder.

“You’re doing great baby.”

“So help me, John Diggle, I am going to end you!”

Felicity heard a groan from whoever he was speaking to and a grunt of pain from John.

“Um...is this a bad time? ‘Cause I could—“

“Felicity, stay on the line. Please. You just gotta give me a minute...”

The groan carried on, rising in pitch and volume until Felicity was squinting in sympathy. 

“Okay,” she heard him say, “it’s coming down. That’s better. Just rest, baby. You’re doing great.”

“Get out,” Felicity heard the voice of Satan reply, and presumably John got.

“I’m back,” he said breathlessly. 

“John—“

“My wife’s in labor, Felicity.”

“Oh. Oh! Oh my god, John, I’m so sorry to bother you! I’ll go, I just—“

“Tell me everything from the beginning.”

She started back over the story, in between contractions, until John was caught up.

“You don’t have any evidence that he’s been stalking you except seeing him tonight?”

She sighed in frustration. “His texts and photos...they were like—“she flapped her free hand around looking for an example—“like Snapchat, only faster. If I could capture one, maybe I could back trace it, but they’re just too fast—“

“Breathe!”

“Sorry. I ramble.”

“I was talking to Lyla. Breathe, Honey.”

There was another pause; Felicity picked at a thread on her comforter and counted along in her head as John talked his wife through a contraction. 

“What about your boyfriend, Queen. Is he there?”

Felicity’s stomach dropped; this was not the way she wanted their conversation to go.

“Cooper threatened to kill him, so I broke up with him,” she confessed wretchedly, twisting the covers in a fist. 

There was only silence on the other end of the line, but she suspected there was excessive eye rolling going on as he processed this information.

“Okay. I want you to call him and let him know you’ve had a face-to-face with Cooper—“

“I can’t.”

“What?”

“He—he doesn’t know about Cooper. Or the felony. Or the hacking. None of it.”

“Felicity...”

John’s sigh sounded so tired and disappointed she started to cry. He sighed again, resigned, when she sniffed into the phone.

“Look, text me his number. I’ll talk to Queen. I also have a buddy I can call to keep an eye on you until the Bureau can get eyes on Seldon. In the meantime, I want you to call the police and make a report. They’ll stick around until my friend gets there.”

Felicity drew in a shaky breath.

“Really? John, are you sure? You’re—“

“I’m sure. Text me that number and keep your door locked until the police get there.”

Felicity nodded vigorously, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“John, thank you. And mazel tov.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon.”

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The number was unfamiliar, but Oliver had recently reconnected with a couple of guys on the mountain and figured it might be one of them, so he answered.

“Mr Queen, this is Agent John Diggle from the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I—“

“Whoa there, buddy,” Oliver cut him off with a laugh. “Nice try. Did Buster put you up to this?”

“Mr Queen, I assure you this isn’t a joke. You and I met recently, in the lobby of Queen Consolidated. I told you I was a friend of Felicity Smoak’s.”

Oliver was suddenly paying very close attention. 

“Wait. You’re FBI?”

“Two years ago Miss Smoak was caught up in a felony computer hack of the Department of Education. Her boyfriend at the time, Cooper Seldon, was tried and convicted on her testimony. Seldon was recently released from prison, and I have every reason to believe he is coming after Felicity.”

Oliver spluttered on his end, at a loss for words.

“I believe she’s in danger, Mr Queen. She’s calling the police, and I have an Agent enroute, but are you able to get to her?”

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his heart rate pick up.

“She—She broke up with me. I don’t know if she’d—“

“She broke up with you because Seldon threatened your life if she didn’t.”

Oliver’s heart leapt and fell simultaneously. Felicity, in danger?

“I assume your family has security,” the agent continued, all business.

“Uh, we do at the house. More can certainly be arranged.”

“Would you be willing to collect her and get her to safety until I can organize a team to locate and bring in Seldon? The agent I’m sending her would accompany you.”

Oliver was already moving.

“Absolutely. Of course. I’m about two hours away, but I’m leaving right now.”

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The knock on the door made Felicity and Curtis both jump. 

“Would your crazy ex-boyfriend knock,” Curtis asked, wide-eyed. 

Felicity made herself walk to the door and push up on her toes to check the peephole. A rather sour-looking man with a buzz cut and salt-and-pepper scruff scowled on the other side of the door. His jacket read “FBI”.

“I think it’s okay, Curtis,” she assured him shakily as she unbolted the door. The man blinked down at her a couple of times, looking non-plussed.

“Felicity Smoak?”

“That’s me,” she replied. “You’re the agent John Diggle sent?”

The man nodded once with a look that said he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Have the police been here yet,” he growled. She shook her head no. 

“They got tied up, they said, but they’ll be here as soon as they can.” Felicity moved back to open the door wider. “I guess you should come in.”

He stepped inside and appeared to give her apartment the once-over, his eyes landing on Curtis with a frown.

“Who’s this?”

“My friend. Curtis Holt. He wanted to stay with me until the authorities got here.”

The agent lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

“Well I’m it, so I guess you can go.”

Curtis shared a “whadda ya think” look with Felicity and she shrugged faintly back. He headed to the kitchen for his leftover Chinese and she followed behind for a whispered conference.

“Will you be okay here,” he hissed, their heads both in the fridge.

“I think so. He’s wearing the right jacket.”

Curtis rolled his eyes at her naïveté.

“What? It’s not like you can get them at Goodwill. Curtis, go. I’ll be fine. The police are on their way, remember?”

She trailed him to the door; he stopped shy of opening it and looked down at her. 

“Call me if you need me,” Curtis ordered. He caught the eye of the FBI agent. “Me and my VERY LARGE BOYFRIEND live really close by,” he continued loudly. 

The agent rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as Curtis left. 

“You got any coffee,” he asked gruffly when she’d shut and locked the door. Felicity huffed a laugh.

“It’s about all I’ve got. Except Chinese food.”

The man waved a dismissive hand. “Coffee will do.”

Felicity studied him shyly as she sorted the coffee; he was half-heartedly perusing her wall of photographs. One in particular caught his attention and held it. It was probably the one of her mother, she thought wryly.

He treated the coffee like it was liquid gold, with his eyes closed and everything. Felicity’s head tipped to the side and she spoke without thinking.

“You look hungover.”

He practically snorted. “Thank you for noticing. I look like this because I’m NOT hungover.”

Felicity wrinkled her nose, a hundred additional questions on the tip of her tongue, but a knock on the door interrupted any more potential awkwardness.

The police were finally here.

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Oliver was still an hour out when he finally got up the nerve to call her. It rang twice before she answered.

“Felicity, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Oliver. An FBI agent is here and the police just left. Where are you?”

Oliver’s heart was beating so hard from finally hearing her voice he didn’t think he could answer. 

“I’m driving. I’ve been on the mountain, but your friend John called and asked me to come get you and bring you to the mansion to keep you safe until they find this guy. Felicity,”—he had to swallow hard to get his voice under control—“what is going on?”

He heard her sigh into the phone.

“I was an idiot, that’s what. I never should’ve let it go so long without telling you about my past, or letting John know that Cooper’s back. I never wanted to break up with you, Oliver, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” he soothed, sensing she was about to spiral. “It’s okay. I’m on my way. Can you pack a bag so you’re ready? I don’t know how long it’ll take them to find him, so plan to stay...”

He wanted to say ‘forever’, but refrained. 

“Be careful,” Felicity said softly, and he smiled into the darkness.

“I will. At least the roads are clear this week.” She chuckled and Oliver thought he might explode from happiness.

—————————————————————-

He texted her that he’d arrived even before he’d turned the car off. The stairs he took two at a time; she swung the door open just as he made the top step. 

Oliver scooped her up at the door, pausing only to push it closed with one foot, his arms, heart, and mind focused solely on holding Felicity as close as possible. 

He didn’t stop until her back was up against the wall; she’d pulled her legs up to circle his waist, and with the wall to help hold her up he found he could free his arms and push his hands into her hair and tip her face up to his. 

“Felicity,” he whispered, overwhelmed with the feel of her pressed against him, holding on for dear life. She pushed forward to kiss him and they both moaned with the contact; it was like a drink in the desert. The urgency to get her to the mansion was completely forgotten beneath his sudden need to show her how much he had missed her. 

A very gravelly throat cleared nearby. 

“I’ll be damned. If it isn’t Oliver Queen.”

Oliver pulled back from Felicity’s mouth and licked his lips, then watched her blink at him slowly for several seconds before turning his head to the man in the FBI jacket on the other side of the room staring daggers at him. He knew that voice.

“Hey there, Mr Lance,” he offered awkwardly.


	28. Chapter 28

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“All this has to go,” Agent Lance asked sourly, looking over the pile of bags growing by the door. Felicity bit her lip in embarrassment and considered putting something back, but Oliver took her hand and squeezed it.

“Plenty of room for everything,” he assured her. Lance frowned.

“Even this—what is this thing, a rug?” He nudged the giant shopping bag with a skeptical foot before Oliver leaned down and caught the handles in his free hand.

“That’s definitely coming with,” he muttered, and Felicity knew if he looked at her just then he would catch her blushing. 

Lance didn’t look convinced. “I don’t have room in my car for all this,” he grumbled.

“It’s okay, Mr Lance. I have room in my car. You can follow us.” Oliver flashed him his winningest smile and let go of Felicity to begin gathering things up. “You two stay here until I get everything loaded.” He winked at Felicity as he hauled the first load out the door.

“How did you manage to get yourself mixed up with that guy,” Lance asked her gruffly, a thumb hooking toward the door. Felicity’s brow creased into a little frown.

“We were both volunteering at the same nursing home, Agent Lance.” The man snorted, which only made her frown grow. “Right now he’s working on a project to make technology accessible to senior citizens and low-income kids. I don’t know about your history with him, but I do know people can change. Oliver Queen is a good person.” 

The door opened behind her and she looked up to meet Oliver’s surprised and grateful face; apparently she’d been using her loud voice by the end of her speech. When she turned back to the FBI agent he wouldn’t meet her eye.

“You think I could get some coffee for the road?”

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“How do you know Agent Lance?”

It was the first thing out of Felicity’s mouth when they got in his car. Oliver wrinkled his nose and waited until he’d pulled into traffic to answer.

“He’s Sara’s father.”

“Huh. Small world,” she observed. He glanced her way.

“Tell me about this ex-boyfriend,” he said, more than ready to stop talking about the Lance family. His eyes flicked to Felicity again; she was looking at her lap.

“I met Cooper in college. He was...not a nice boyfriend, but I didn’t figure that out until it was too late.” 

Luckily they were stopped at a light, because he couldn’t tear his eyes from her.

“Felicity, was he...did he...hurt you?”

There must’ve been something in his tone of voice, because her head popped up immediately.

“He didn’t hurt me physically, but he was emotionally abusive, yes. He was very controlling, very...critical.” 

The light changed and they rolled on; when he looked her way again she was staring out the window. They drove in silence for a few minutes; every time Oliver glanced in the rear view mirror he saw Lance’s car.

“I created a computer virus, a big one, meant to hack anything. I always imagined using it for social justice, like some kind of computer super hero.” She huffed a laugh and he found himself smiling. “That sounds dumb.”

“No it doesn’t,” he assured her gently. 

“But instead of bringing down corrupt CEOs or exposing tax evaders, Cooper used it to try to erase a bunch of student debt for thousands of people. The FBI caught him, but I was a minor at the time...” she paused to take a deep breath. “And I testified against him. I’m the reason he was convicted.”

“He was convicted because he broke the law, Felicity.” Oliver kept glancing over at her until he saw her nod in agreement.

“Anyway,” she continued with a little shake of her head, “John—Agent Diggle—called me a couple weeks ago to tell me Coop got new legal counsel or something and the conviction was thrown out. They lost track of him after he was released from prison, but John suspected he was coming for me. I guess he was right.”

Oliver let ten seconds of silence hang between them before he spoke.

“Was tonight the first time he’s contacted you, Felicity?” He had to keep looking ahead to negotiate the exit ramp, but he heard her resigned sigh.

“He was on the mountain with us last weekend.”

“Felicity...” he breathed, suddenly very not okay; this was a whole different level of crazy.

“He’s been sending me awful texts, and...and there were photos. Of us skiing. And, Oliver...” He looked over at her again, his heart racing. “There was a picture of the cabin. You know, from that afternoon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he asked, a little surprised at how broken his voice sounded. 

“He threatened to KILL you!” She was crying suddenly, her fists balled up in her lap. “I didn’t know if he would really do it, but he was obviously stalking us already.”

“My family has money, Felicity! You know this. I could’ve gotten us security, or...been able to make this go away somehow—“

“I work in the IT DEPARTMENT FOR YOUR PARENTS, Oliver! If they found out I was an accessory to a cyber felony, I’d be lucky if all I did was get fired. I’d certainly never work in technology again.”

“You don’t know that—“

“I do know that—“

“Felicity...” Oliver’s voice dropped in volume dramatically, done yelling. They weren’t going to get anywhere this way. Felicity sniffed forlornly and he saw her swipe a sleeve across her face out of the corner of his eye; he reached out to grab her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry for yelling.” He squeezed again and this time she returned the gesture. “We’ll fix this. Okay? You’re safe with me.”

——————————————————————-

“Do your parents know about us being here,” Lance asked with a frown. Both of their vehicles were parked under the front entry to the Queen mansion and Oliver was unloading Felicity’s things onto the sidewalk.

“They’re out of the country at the moment, but I’ll let them know what’s going on.” Oliver straightened and looked the older man in the eye. “Are you sure you need to stay, Mr Lance? Our security can take it from here.”

Lance scowled and shook his head. 

“John asked me to keep an eye on you, so that’s what I’m gonna do.” He looked like he’d rather do anything but; Oliver had to try hard not to roll his eyes. 

“Well, let’s see about getting you a room.”

Raisa helped the FBI agent while Oliver piled all of Felicity’s belongings into the elevator; by the time they got it all loaded there wasn’t enough room for them, so he sent it on to the second floor and he and Felicity took the stairs. 

There was no question in his mind where she was going to stay, FBI agent or no. Oliver moved her things into his room and bid the agent goodnight as he led her inside.

When he turned around after closing and locking the door Felicity had her lip worried between her teeth. 

“Is this okay,” he asked, suddenly realizing he hadn’t asked before bringing her into his room. “Would you rather have your own—“

“No, it’s not that,” she interrupted, laying a hand on his arm. “I just...um, I was thinking about Agent Lance being out there keeping watch, and us being in here...you know...”

Oliver couldn’t help grinning. “Oh, I see.” He stroked a hand against her hair. “We don’t have to do anything but sleep, Felicity.” She visibly relaxed at his words and he kissed her forehead. He pulled back a little to look at her before bending down to capture her lips.

“Or,” he added between kisses, “we could just be very, very quiet.”

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Oliver offered to let her use the bathroom first. While Felicity was brushing her teeth her eyes fell on the giant freestanding tub reflected in the mirror. She met her own gaze; a saucy gleam was in her eye. A bath would be just the thing.

Filling the tub left the room warm and steamy; she stripped down to nothing and poked her head out the door to the bedroom. Oliver was on the far side of the room rearranging her stuff; his head popped up when she called his name. Felicity bit her lip and slipped her hand out the barely-opened door to crook a finger at him. 

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Oliver looked over the mountain of Felicity’s things piled up in his room; he should probably clean out a couple of dresser drawers for her. He would definitely benefit from clearing out some things in his closet; he still had stuff in there from High School. 

He was just beginning to make room for her computer on his desk when he heard the bathroom door open. Felicity called his name.

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“Need some help,” he asked, jogging across the room to her and probably thinking she needed him to show her how the shower worked or something. As soon as he was close enough she threw the door wide with a grin.

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Steam swirled around her gloriously naked form and Oliver thought his heart might stop. His body froze short of the threshold, overwhelmed by the sight of her, this precious human being he’d spent so much time this week thinking he had lost. 

Felicity stepped back to allow him room to enter; he paused long enough to pull his feet out of his shoes and strip off his socks and then he was in the bathroom with her, still painfully overdressed.

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Her brain short circuited a little when he crossed his arms in front of him to grab the hem of his Henley and pull it over his head in one smooth motion. Where did guys learn how to do that?! Probably in gym class, a detached part of her mind mused as she backed to the tub. Oliver stalked toward her, already unzipping his jeans. 

She threw a leg over the side of the tub and hopped over the edge, not quite the seductive siren she had been aiming for, but it didn’t seem to dampen his enthusiasm. She sank down in the middle of the tub as Oliver slid his jeans and underwear down together, planted both hands on the edge of the tub, and vaulted in.

Felicity squealed in anticipation of the splash, but his feet slipped into the water with hardly a ripple. He stretched his legs out on either side of her and sat with a sigh and a grin, then motioned her to him. She turned and settled against him; Oliver wrapped both arms around her, one just below her breasts, the other across her shoulders to band her to his chest.

Neither spoke for a few minutes as Oliver slid down into the tub with them both so he could rest his head against the edge. At that level the ends of Felicity’s hair floated in the water; his bicep made the perfect spot for her to lay her head. 

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He could, quite honestly, stay like that forever, holding her in his arms, but eventually the water was going to cool. And he had things he needed to say. 

“I got arrested,” he whispered into her hair. “For being stupid.” He blinked at the ceiling a couple of times. “My parents managed to keep it out of the news, but they couldn’t make it go away completely.” Oliver sighed once and squeezed her a little closer. “Felicity, my work at the nursing home is court-ordered community service.”

There was a pause before Felicity spoke; Oliver held his breath and waited.

“I know,” was all she said, her head still cradled by his arm.

“How did you find out?” Now that he knew she wasn’t pushing away from him he could afford to be curious.

“I happened to share an elevator with your mother Monday afternoon.” Felicity shrugged against him. “She assumed I knew.”

Oliver sighed. “It should’ve been me. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I have any room to judge about secrets, Oliver,” she chuckled. 

They both fell quiet for another minute, and then he began to talk. He told her about Tommy: Their childhood adventures, the way he could always get them out of trouble with adults—or girls; about the night he died. And all the things Oliver had loved about him. 

He told her about Sara too, while he was at it, up to and including his recent phone call to her and their conversation. Felicity listened calmly to everything, laughing at the funny stories, turning her head to leave a kiss on his arm whenever his voice caught on a sad one. By the time he was done the water had cooled enough to leave goosebumps on their exposed skin.

“I think we’ve overstayed our bath,” he announced when she shivered against him. Oliver let go of her to hoist himself out of the tub and grab a giant fluffy towel. When Felicity was standing and wrapped up in the butter yellow Egyptian cotton he stepped into the shower long enough to turn it on. Steam was once against swirling around the room before he snagged her by the towel and propelled her into the giant shower; he dropped her towel behind him and followed her in.

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He washed her hair, which until that moment was something she’d only seen in movies, or dreamed about. 

It was as wonderful as she’d always imagined.

When the shampoo was all rinsed out and they had both warmed up Felicity turned in his arms and told him about the lowest moments of her life with Cooper. They stood and swayed under the water that—miraculously—never got cold, even after she’d run out of things to say. 

He dried her off as if she was a priceless artifact; they brushed their teeth side by side like an old married couple, and then he took her hand and led her to bed. 

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“Oliver,” she whispered, curled up against his side with her head nestled on his shoulder.

He hummed sleepily in response.

“I think I can be very, very quiet if you can.”

His head immediately raised off the pillow; instead of answering he moved down the bed, burrowing under the covers to get between her legs. She opened for him with a sigh and a wiggle.

It was late, he imagined neither of them had slept well all week, and he was horny as hell; there would be no teasing or torturing this round. He spread her open with his fingers and tasted her with flicks of his tongue while she writhed beneath him. In no time he had her at the edge, and with one well-placed finger pushed her over into a long shuddering release. 

She’d kept her word; her orgasm was a series of whispered ‘yeses’, her hands on either side of his head holding him where she needed him most. Oliver could hardly get to the nightstand drawer fast enough.

Felicity was still moaning softly when he pushed inside her; she wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed him impossibly tight.

“Still...coming,” she gasped. He could hear the amazement in her voice and he grinned despite the fact he was gritting his teeth to keep from exploding immediately. Fuck it, he thought, picking up the pace of his thrusts and pushing himself to the edge in something nearing record time. His senses exploded; he actually saw stars for a second, his rhythm ruined by the pleasure zinging through his body.

Oliver was careful not to collapse on her, but he couldn’t exactly pull away either; Felicity’s legs were still locked around him. She was humming softly, tunelessly, still enjoying the moment. He stroked her hair, his weight on his forearms, and dipped his head to kiss her behind one ear.

“Felicity, honey...”

She hummed acknowledgement, her eyes closed.

“You have to let go.”

She growled then, an adorable sound that made him chuckle, but her legs finally loosened and allowed him to slip out of her. Oliver rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom; she was lying on her back with her arms thrown over her head and a lazy smile on her face when he returned.

“Go,” he whispered as he climbed back in beside her. Felicity huffed a sigh but obeyed, scampering back from the bathroom and snuggling against him in under a minute.

With one long sigh he was asleep.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my dears, I didn’t intend to leave you hanging for so long. In an effort to stay on track and finish this story in a timely manner I have made both notes and a timeline of major events to come, assuring that I won’t forget any of the good stuff I have planned for the ending. Thanks for sticking with me!

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Despite the quickie before bed, Oliver woke in the middle of night as hard as a rock. He checked the time with one squinting eye; it was nearly three o’clock in the morning. He realized he might have disturbed Felicity’s rest when she rolled silently out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom; he waited with his eyes closed for her to come back and slip under the covers next to him. 

When she was settled again on her back Oliver rolled to face her, letting his obvious erection press against her thigh. Felicity sighed and wriggled a little closer, then threw the leg closest to him over the top of him; she pushed her other leg between both of his. Neither of them had put their clothes back on after their reunion sex, which made this even easier. He dropped a hand across her stomach and reached further down to tease her clit with his fingertips; Felicity hummed softly in approval. A couple of swipes against it and a dip inside her with his fingers and she was ready; he lined himself up against her and pushed inside. 

From this angle he could penetrate incredibly deep; he grunted as he thrust inside her. Felicity shifted her upper body away from him to get their lower halves closer; Oliver groaned as she lifted her hips and he sank even further in. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, panting as he kept to his ambitious pace; the fingers that had readied her traced a path up her stomach until they reached her breasts and her nipples, already stiff with desire. 

Felicity turned away from him then to lay on her side so that her back was to him. She had to stick her ass out a little accomplish this feat; Oliver groaned louder as he shifted with her, happy to do this from any angle she chose. 

“Harder,” she moaned softly, contracting in the middle to push back against him, looking for more. Oliver found another gear and silently obeyed.

He exploded inside her, the orgasm leaving him shuddering and gasping in the dark.

“Mmmm, nice,” she murmured into her pillow, already drifting back to sleep.

He was almost asleep himself before he realized they’d forgotten to use a condom.

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“You sure this is enough work space? We could set you up in your own office. God knows we have the room.”

“Oliver, this is fine.”

He was so cute, hovering around her, trying to help. Felicity smiled up at him from her seat at his writing desk. They had slept in, taken a shower together, and spent a good hour rearranging his closet and putting her clothes away. So domestic. 

“You know what I really need, though...” she trailed off, a gleam in her eye. Oliver looked ready to rush off and get whatever it might be.

“Name it.”

She grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him down to eye level; his eyes suddenly darkened with desire.

“Food,” she whispered seductively. Oliver’s face lit with a grin.

“We should probably check on your FBI agent, too.” 

“Agent Lance! Oh my god, I almost forgot.”

Oliver led the way to the kitchen, her hand engulfed inside his; Felicity found herself hanging back to appreciate the size difference between them. The fact that she was barefoot only made the disparity more pronounced. 

“You would’ve been handy to have around the one time I went to a concert at Rockets Stadium. What a nightmare. I was nearly crushed to death!”

Oliver glanced over his shoulder at her and squeezed her hand. 

“I’d run interference for you any time, honey.”

Whatever he might’ve said next was cut off when he stopped short in the doorway of the kitchen. Felicity plowed into the back of him, but he didn’t seem to notice. She poked her head around his arm to see what was going on. 

Breakfast had obviously been made recently, but the mess of cookware hadn’t been the thing to catch Oliver’s attention: On the far side of the room, seated at the breakfast table, Agent Lance and Thea Queen squared off in an apparent staring contest. Each contestant was munching a grilled cheese. 

“Uh, hello,” Oliver offered, his head tilting to the left as he strode into the kitchen with Felicity trailing behind. 

“Who is this guy, Ollie,” Thea questioned around a bite of her sandwich. She was concentrating very hard on out-glaring her opponent.

“This is Agent Lance. From the FBI. What. Are you doing?” Oliver stopped at the edge of the table and waved the flat of his hand vertically between the two of them. Still no blinking.

“This your little sister? She makes a mean grilled cheese.” Agent Lance bit off another gooey mouthful. 

Felicity glanced at Oliver in time to catch him pull his lips inward, hiding annoyance or a smile, she couldn’t tell which. There were a few seconds of silence—except for chewing and swallowing—and then Oliver sighed and turned back toward the kitchen island.

“Well okay. We’ll leave you to it, then.”

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Halfway through a stack of his homemade blueberry pancakes Felicity dropped a hand onto his forearm. Thea had already finished eating and skipped out of the room without a word to anyone; Lance had headed out soon after to walk the grounds.

“Do you think Agent Lance would let us go to the nursing home for a little while to see Mary?”

Oliver sighed into his breakfast. “With everything that’s happened I forgot to tell you: There’s been a flu outbreak at the nursing home. Only essential staff allowed in at the moment.” He saw her defeated look and nodded sadly. “I know. I want to see her too. I’m worried about her.”

“Maybe we could send her flowers,” she suggested, brightening a little with hope. 

Oliver shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” He reached into his back pocket to extract his phone and key in his password before setting it on the counter so Felicity could order whatever she liked. She grinned at him and got to work. 

They sat in a comfortable silence as she scrolled through the myriad of bouquet choices on the florist website; Oliver mostly stared out the window over the estate grounds. The snow was completely gone by now, the perpetually green grass of the Pacific Northwest shimmering in the winter sunshine. 

“Aww,” she said once, tilting the screen so he could see the planter with a stuffed teddy bear accompanying it. “I wonder if Agent Diggle’s wife had a boy or a girl.” She glanced up at him and then back to the screen. “She was in labor when I called to tell him about Cooper.”

Oliver had a sudden flash of their middle-of-the-night activities and his pulse rate shot up, and not in a good way. Oh god. They hadn’t used protection. Did she even know?

“Um, Felicity—“

“There. I like that one for Mary. Is that okay?” She showed him the phone again and he nodded distractedly. He took it back from her to complete the sale, intending to finish his thought as he did so, but Agent Lance sauntered into the kitchen and interrupted his chance. 

“Any contact from your psycho ex-boyfriend?”

Oliver suppressed an eye roll. This guy. 

“Sorry, no. It’s been quiet.” Felicity flipped her phone up to check anyway, although it had been silent for hours. “Have you heard from John? I mean, Agent Diggle?”

Lance shrugged. “He checked in early this morning. He wants to come out himself, but I told him I could handle things until our regional team can nab Seldon. He has that new baby and all, anyhow.”

The agent turned to leave but Felicity stopped him with a question.

“Did he say if it was a boy or a girl?”

Lance looked back over his shoulder. “A girl. They’re still working on a name.”

Felicity smiled and thanked him, and by the time she’d turned back to Oliver he was holding his phone out to her with the flower website pulled back up. 

“Um, Felicity,” he began softly, eyes darting from the top of her bent head to the hall to make sure they weren’t about to be interrupted again. She hummed in response without looking up; Oliver swiped at the back of his neck nervously.

“Last night. The middle of the night, I mean. We—we didn’t, um, we forgot—“

Felicity paused to look up at him expectantly when he didn’t finish his sentence. 

“What I mean to say is—“

“Oliver. If we’re going to have lots of sex from now on, and I certainly plan on it, we’re going to have to be able to talk about it.”

Oliver nodded, swallowing nervously.

“Condom,” he eventually blurted. Felicity blinked. “We didn’t use one that last time.”

“I’m really sorry,” he continued after a pause, when her only response was more blinking. She finally shook her head quickly, as if to clear it. 

“It’s okay, Oliver. I’m on the pill.” She glanced back at her flower order on his phone. “I mean, I think it’s good to use back up whenever possible, but, you know, we’re still covered.” She looked up at him and grinned. “In case we get carried away.”

A giant weight lifted from his shoulders and he smiled back at her, relieved.

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Oliver’s inability to use his words when it came to certain intimate subjects was hilarious and endearing. Felicity gazed at the tiny pink planter with the teddy bear she had just added to his phone’s shopping cart as she waited for him to continue and smiled to herself. Someday...

Whatever he was trying to say got stuck in his throat; she looked up at him to prompt him to continue. 

“What I mean to say is—“

“Oliver. If we’re going to have lots of sex from now on, and I certainly plan on it, we’re going to have to be able to talk about it.” Lots of sex. All of the sex. Felicity tried not to blush just thinking about it. 

“Condom,” he said in a rush, making her blink. “We didn’t use one that last time.”

Suddenly Felicity was back in college, confessing tearfully to Cooper that her period was late as he worked up to a good yell, reminding her that it was her stupid fault if she got knocked up, and that she was on her own because he wasn’t going to embarrass his family or jeopardize his future over her mistake. 

It had been a false alarm, but the shame—and fear—had stayed with her for months after. 

“I’m really sorry,” Oliver said then, sounding absolutely remorseful; the look on his face finally snapped her out of her memory. 

“It’s okay, Oliver. I’m on the pill.” Felicity had to look away then, overwhelmed by the way he loved her. “I mean, I think it’s good to use back up whenever possible, but, you know, we’re still covered.” 

She grinned at him then, as a picture of that beautiful rug filled her thoughts. “In case we get carried away.”

——————————————————————-

By the time Robert and Moira returned to the mansion Sunday night, security for the entire estate had been beefed up and Agent Lance had been relieved of duty. John Diggle promised to check in at least once a day by phone if Felicity would promise to call him the minute Cooper contacted her again. 

Not at liberty to leave the house, Oliver and Felicity had whiled away the weekend hours with Thea, watching movies and playing games. There were also plenty of naps, and one memorable romp on that rug they laid out in front of the fireplace in Oliver’s bedroom. 

Her phone remained silent.

“Oliver,” she murmured from her spot straddling his lap as he sat propped against the headboard of his bed, intently kissing along her jawline. 

“Mmm...”

“I need to speak to your parents.”

His lips paused in their work. “This is not a good time to mention my parents, Felicity,” he whispered. She huffed a laugh. 

“I know. Sorry. But I need to tell them about the hack on QC.”

Oliver hummed again, back at work on her neck. “What about it?”

“Stop. I can’t concentrate.” She felt him smirk against her and finally put her hands on either side of his face to pull him off her. She waited until she was sure he was looking at her. “I think the hack was Cooper.”

Oliver stared at her a long, long moment before his arms dropped to his sides. “Do you have proof, or is it just a hunch?”

“I think I can get proof, yes. If they’ll give me permission to go look for it.”

Oliver sighed and nodded once. He shifted sideways and rolled her off of both him and the bed so he could follow and stand. “Okay. You got it. We’ll go talk to them.” He shook one leg comically. “As soon as I can walk.”

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One of the (many) things Oliver was really beginning to love about Felicity was her fearlessness. Maybe she wasn’t exactly fearless, he amended as they walked side by side to find his parents, but she was certainly brave. Very few people he knew would voluntarily seek out Robert and Moira Queen to tell them the foul play against their company was probably the work of a vengeful ex. 

They were both in the study with the fireplace lit, each engrossed in their own paperwork. Oliver knocked softly on the doorframe to alert them. “Hey there. Have a minute?”

Robert glanced up from his desk and Moira smiled. “Of course,” his mother replied, sitting up straight from her spot on the sofa and gesturing them both forward. Oliver resisted the urge to search for Felicity’s hand as they crossed the room and took seats in the wingback chairs opposite her.

“Felicity, I’m so sorry you’ve been having trouble with this ex boyfriend of yours. It must have been terrible.”

Felicity’s head shook quickly, making her ponytail fly. “It’s...thank you. For everything.” She gestured around her, in awe. “For letting me stay here. I’m sorry to trouble you with the extra security—“

“Nonsense,” Robert cut in with a shake of his head. “It’s the least we could do.”

Oliver watched her blush prettily, obviously uncomfortable with all the fuss. 

“Has there been any news,” Moira asked with a wrinkle of concern between her brows. 

“No. He hasn’t...hasn’t contacted me since I ran into him on Friday night. The FBI are, uh, looking.” 

Oliver sensed her nervousness growing the longer they sat there. He leaned forward to intervene.

“Felicity thinks Seldon may be connected to the QC hack,” he supplied, watching Felicity’s face as he did so. She shot him a grateful glance and nodded once. 

The look on his father’s face shifted to a frown of concern. Felicity took a big breath.

“There were patterns in the hack—signatures, you could say—that reminded me of Cooper’s work. I dismissed it at the time because I thought he was still in prison. But now...”

“Do you think he was trying to get to you,” Moira asked, watching her carefully. Oliver’s eyes slipped to Felicity again. 

“Honestly, I have no idea what his motivation would be. It’s obvious he’s been close to me for a couple of weeks, at least. I don’t know why he would come after me through the company, or what he wants with me, period.”

Oliver saw her shudder then, despite the heat in the room from the crackling fire; he longed to reach a hand out to her, but he didn’t think it seemed very grown up somehow. Her eyes dropped to her hands twisting together in her lap.

Robert sighed, thoughtful. “Now that you suspect, is there a way for you to find out for sure if it was Seldon?”

Felicity nodded quickly, more comfortable on the subject of computers. “There is a definite possibility, if I can get access to the QC servers. It might take me a day or two, but yeah. I think I can.”

Robert nodded with a glance at his wife. “I’ll run it by security and see what they say, but as long as they sign off on it I say go for it.”

Moira nodded agreement. “Finding evidence that he tampered with the company will go a long way toward putting him back in prison.” She smiled again. “And then you can get back to living your life.”

His mother’s eyes slid to him next; she looked pleased with him, which made him both happy and uncomfortable. Oliver rubbed his palms against his jean-clad thighs and then stood slowly. He waited for Felicity to join him and placed a hand against the small of her back as he wished his parents good night. 

Her hand slipped into his as they walked out of the room. 

——————————————————————

His father gave them the bad news over an early breakfast the next morning; Felicity had insisted on getting up at the crack of dawn to be ready to go to work at her usual time, anxious to get busy exposing Seldon. Not for the first time Oliver fantasized running into him outside QC and throttling him with his bare hands. It sounded extremely satisfying.

“Security says you need to stay at the mansion where we can control who comes in and out. At QC we have hundreds of employees we need to account for and protect. Sorry.”

Oliver watched Felicity bite her lip but nod in understanding. “Is there a way you can work from here,” he asked her softly, not sure at all how this computer stuff really worked. She looked up and studied him in thought. 

“It’s faster if I’m directly connected, you know, in the server room, but I can probably do what I need with remote access.”

“Good,” Robert decided, ready to move on to the next pressing problem of the day, whatever that might be. “Your supervisor will hear from me directly this morning giving you permission to access anything you need.” He dropped his linen napkin in the table and pushed back to stand. “Good luck.”

He didn’t ask his son what his plans for the day were, which normally would be a relief; Oliver had a curious feeling of disappointment that no one had noticed how much time he’d been devoting to finishing his community service, or that he was taking a kind of pride in it. All the more reason to get his project with Curtis off the ground, he decided with a sigh. 

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Her workstation set up in Oliver’s room wasn’t half bad; it was well-lit, and warmed by the fire he tended throughout the day. She could almost imagine she was on vacation—if people went on hacking vacations, that is. 

Felicity sighed out a groan and stretched her arms over her head. They were well into Tuesday afternoon by now, with still no contact from Cooper. She’d made good progress on the hack evidence—his digital fingerprints were definitely all over it—and she already had enough proof for the FBI to issue a warrant for his arrest.

Now all they had to do was find him. 

Oliver had done his best to keep himself busy and stay out of her hair over the last couple of days, but there were only so many push ups one guy could do in eight hours; very sexy push ups at that. Felicity had finally thrown him out to give herself a break from all the distracting thoughts about sex she had every time she watched his abs contract in a sit up. 

There was a knock on the door and she hollered for whoever it was to come in; maybe it was Raisa with a snack. Her rumbling tummy certainly hoped that was the case. But instead it was Thea’s brunette head that poked in; Felicity smiled. 

“Hey there. Home from school?”

The younger girl pushed the door all the way open and entered, still wearing her prep school uniform and lugging a giant backpack. 

“Do you have time to answer an Algebra II question,” she asked. Felicity nodded enthusiastically. 

“After looking at code all day, a little algebra sounds like fun.”

Thea rolled her eyes comically, already dumping her bag on the floor and kneeling to unzip it. “Only you would think of math as fun,” she accused mildly. Felicity shrugged as she plopped onto the floor next to her. 

“Where would the rest of you be without us nerds? Whatcha got?”

They sat cross-legged on the floor with the book cradled in Thea’s lap and consulted quietly for several minutes before Felicity felt eyes on her and glanced up at the doorway; Oliver was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, smiling softly. She smiled back at him but didn’t interrupt his sister’s concentration by greeting him.

The next time she looked up, the doorway was empty.

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Raisa was busy working on dinner when Oliver popped into the kitchen. He skirted around her, on the hunt for whatever sweet treats she might’ve made that day. The housekeeper raised a questioning eyebrow when he scooped up two handfuls of still-warm chocolate chip cookies from the counter with his bare hands. 

“A snack,” he explained as she continued to give him the eye. “For Thea and Felicity.”

Raisa’s eyebrow didn’t lower. “Cookies are not snacks. Here.” She wiped her hands on a towel and reached for the handle of the fridge.

Ten minutes later Oliver headed up the stairs with a giant tray full of cheese, crackers, fruit, and only a couple of cookies. He turned the corner into his room to find his sister and his girlfriend just where he’d left them, huddled together on the floor with a book between them. 

“Knock knock,” he said, since both his hands were full. Felicity’s eyes lit up when she saw the tray. 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she purred. 

“I should hope so,” he drawled back, heat in his eyes just from the tone of her voice.

Thea rolled her eyes as she closed the textbook. “Ugh, you two. Get a room.”

“I have a room.” Oliver crouched to set the tray on the floor in front of them with a smirk. “And right now you’re in it. So maybe you’re the one who needs to get out.”

Felicity slung an arm around Thea’s shoulders and pulled her close, her other hand already reaching for the crackers and cheese. “Nope! She stays with me,” she warned adorably. 

“That’s right,” Thea agreed. “And Felicity’s stuck with us forever.”

Oliver felt his smirk turn soft as he looked at the two of them. “That sounds like a fine idea to me,” he said softly. Felicity’s hand froze on the way to her mouth with her first bite; she bit her lip as she stared back at him. 

“Seriously, you guys. Gross.”

———————————————————————

By Wednesday morning everyone—Felicity, Agent Diggle, himself, his parents, and their personal security—were on edge with the waiting. He and Felicity were virtually prisoners in the house, because their security was being twitchy about even letting them outside to take a walk. Felicity had confessed to him that she worried people were starting to doubt that she’d even seen Cooper Friday night; that and the long hours searching for him within the corporate hacking mess made her restless and anxious. 

John Diggle sighed over the speaker of their daily conference call. “I don’t know what else to do other than wait him out,” he growled. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, Felicity.”

Oliver watched her wring her hands together on the desktop; she was practically squirming in her seat with the need to get up and DO something. 

“What if we...I don’t know...drew him out somehow,” she tried, not exactly making eye contact with him on the other side of the desk.

“Are you talking about being bait,” Oliver asked, suddenly very concerned. “Absolutely not, Felicity.”

“Oliver, listen. I’d be inside Queen Consolidated, surrounded by security. He’d be too smart to make a move on me physically, but he might reach out and message me, and then maybe I could find him.” She reached across to grip his hand. “This could all be over by tonight.”

John cut in over the phone while Oliver was busy shaking his head no. 

“I think she’s right, Oliver. Partly right, anyway. Let me check in with QC security and Agent Lance. We can’t get it coordinated today, but we could probably do it tomorrow.”

“Oliver, please,” she begged. He wanted to find another argument, but nothing would come to him that didn’t make him sound like a misogynistic asshole. “You’ll be with me the whole time,” she reminded him, obviously feeling him beginning to cave.

“Okay,” he finally agreed softly. 

“Okay,” Diggle echoed. “I’ll get things going on my end and get back to you with the details.” 

——————————————————————-

By the middle of the afternoon all the plans were set; Agent Lance would come to escort them to QC in the morning, and he and a contingent of the Queen family’s private security would stay with Felicity all day. She would do her work from one of the conference rooms on the executive level, because the elevator to that floor could be programmed to be ID-access only, an extra layer of security. 

As the day waned, the reality of what the next day could bring began to weigh on Felicity. She seemed distracted and uncomfortable throughout dinner with his parents, making Oliver wish he’d opted to eat with her in the kitchen with Raisa, or even in his room. Thea must have noticed as well, because she was a regular chatterbox throughout the meal, even sticking around after she’d finished eating to socialize.

He escaped with Felicity as soon as he could manage it, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they climbed the stairs to his room and beginning to catch some of her unease. Oliver fought to calm his racing heartbeat and walk slowly down the hall; the idea of her being scared and vulnerable tomorrow, even if everything worked as planned, made him want to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

“Felicity,” he whispered as he stopped them both in front of his door and turned her to face him. His hands slid up her arms to cup her face and he stepped in to kiss her softly. He could feel the pulse in her jaw under his little finger; it settled as the chaste kiss went on and she relaxed between his hands. 

Oliver finally pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers with a sigh. “This is almost over. And then we can move on. Together.”

A smile ghosted across her face and she nodded slightly, eyes closed.

“Together,” she agreed softly.


	30. Chapter 30

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The procession of cars carrying Oliver, Felicity, Lance, and all the security toward Queen Consolidated felt like a presidential motorcade. Robert and Moira had gone in with their usual driver at their usual time in order to keep up the appearance of normalcy, but their long line of traffic had held off until well after rush hour in an attempt to keep the chaos of driving through downtown to a minimum. 

Felicity sat pressed against his side, their fingers intertwined in a fierce handhold; she was dressed to kill in a brightly-colored skirt, patterned blouse, and sky high heels. She looked neither left nor right, and neither of them spoke until they were at the final stoplight before QC.

“It’s just a short walk from the car to the building,” Oliver murmured to her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “You won’t be alone for a second.”

Felicity nodded, her ponytail bobbing behind her; she looked like a queen. A Queen, he thought suddenly, wishing fervently to make it so. But first things first. 

Agent Lance twisted around to look at them from the front seat as the first big SUV in line pulled up to the curb that a city cop had been keeping clear for their arrival. “Ready?”

Oliver nodded for them both as he skimmed his free hand over his thigh in anticipation.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly.

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Oliver had tried his best to help her relax after dinner; candles, the crackling fire, a solo bubble bath filled with the scent of lavender. He’d wrapped her in a towel and led her to bed, then laid her back on the thick duvet and demonstrated his considerable skill at distraction. But try as she might, Felicity couldn’t let go of the tension that had built up from days of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Breathe, baby,” he ordered quietly, spreading his palm across her bare stomach and holding it there until she released the breath she’d been holding. Felicity exhaled shakily and then breathed in again, blinking at the ceiling as tears threatened. Oliver went back to work on her warm center, caressing her with his tongue even as the hand remained, grounding her. Reminding her to keep breathing. 

Felicity relaxed with her second big exhale and finally began to feel herself nearing the edge of release. Her next breath out threw her over, and with the waves of pleasure came the tears. Oliver pressed one last kiss against her shuddering center and moved up her body without a word; he slid his arms beneath and around her and rolled them both to put her on top, his arousal pressed between them and pulsing in sync with his heartbeat.

She clung to his shoulders and buried her face in the crook of his neck, releasing the rest of the tension the orgasm hadn’t resolved with wracking sobs. Oliver squeezed her tight, holding her close and asking for nothing. But her body was still thrumming with need; after only a couple of minutes she found herself seeking after him with her hips, tilting and rocking against him until he groaned. 

He let go of her with one arm long enough to reach for the nightstand drawer, but Felicity shook her head against him with a moaned no, lifting her hips and centering herself over him until she could feel him pressing against her entrance. 

“Want to feel you,” she murmured, pushing down to take him in all at once; the sensation left them both gasping. Oliver lay perfectly still for a moment, breath taken by the feel of her surrounding him with no barriers, a moment they had both failed to appreciate in their groggy states from the middle of the night before. 

Felicity moved then, straightening her arms and pushing off his chest until she was upright and straddling him, her fingers tracing the lines of his abs as he contracted to thrust up into her. The candlelight reflected back at her from his beautiful eyes that never left her face; his hands lifted to explore and caress her breasts as she raised herself up and fell back against him with glorious friction. 

Suddenly she had it: The angle she needed to hit the perfect spot deep inside; she closed her eyes, remembering to breathe deep as she pursued a second release. Oliver’s breath was coming out in pants beneath her, clearly trying to hold his own climax in check while she worked their bodies together; he chanted “Come for me, baby” over and over until it sounded like a song. 

Felicity’s mouth fell open with wonder at this new sensation; every position had a different form of release, apparently. This one made her feel like she was filling with light from her center out, bright and tingly and feather light. She thought her chest would burst open with love and warmth when it washed over her, and her surprised laugh through her tears pushed Oliver into his own release. His eyes slammed shut and he swore a blue streak with his head thrown back, his rhythm gone as he emptied himself inside her.

He extinguished the candles and stoked the fire one last time while she was in the bathroom, but was back in bed and waiting for her under the covers with open arms upon her return. Exhaustion settled itself deep in her bones as she climbed in and nestled against him, half asleep already.

Oliver must’ve thought she was already out, because just as she drifted off she heard him sigh very softly and whisper “Marry me” against her hair. 

—————————————————————-

It was that, and not the thought of Cooper Seldon, that kept her silent and thoughtful on the drive into the city. Oliver’s words haunted her; had he been asleep himself, dreaming already? Had she imagined it? 

In the first thing he’d said to her since they climbed into the car, Oliver reminded her she wouldn’t be alone for the walk into the building and she nodded understanding. There would be time to unpack his whispered words later—with Caitlin—when this was all over.

Right now she was ready to kick some ass.

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Agent Lance slid out of the front seat and opened their door as soon as the rest of the security team had taken up their positions around the car. Oliver climbed out with her hand still inside his, mounting the curb and guiding her to step down off the running board and stand next to him. She’d spent the last few days barefoot; he was surprised how much taller she was this morning in those heels. 

The combined security force had concluded that Seldon probably wasn’t an armed threat, at least from a distance, so the decision had been made to march Felicity into the building in front of everyone, hoping he would notice. Their years of training and experience aside, Oliver wasn’t convinced the plan was entirely solid, but his opinion had not been asked. He found himself wanting to throw his arms around her and make a run for it, but curiously it was Felicity who set the slow-but-determined pace across the concrete plaza to the revolving doors like a badass corporate giant surrounded by her retinue, clearly taking shit from no one. Only the fierce grip of her fingers entwined with his betrayed her confidence. 

The winter sun was intense this morning, glaring off the polished steel and glass of his family’s legacy, making him squint as they got closer to the entrance. Lance was on Felicity’s other side, his hand on her elbow; everyone’s head was on a swivel. 

Five steps from the door Oliver had the overwhelming urge to scoop her up and run into the building, to get this the hell over with, but Felicity squeezed his hand once—hard—and he settled. A member of the team, ignoring the revolving door that would force them to separate, snagged a regular door and held it open; two guards and Lance went through and then she was inside, with Oliver practically on top of her. The transition from bright sunlight to the softer light of the lobby’s atrium made him blink.

“We’re in,” Lance growled into his earpiece with a finger against the device; talking to building security or Agent Diggle or even his father, he had no idea. A few eyes turned to watch the strange knot of people cross the lobby to the bank of elevators, but mostly they were ignored; it was obvious there was serious business afoot, and the smart money was on keeping one’s head down and getting on with the day. 

They had an elevator car to themselves—well, themselves, Lance, and four members of security; the rest came up in another car, with two already on the executive floor, sweeping it before they even got off. It was clear John Diggle was taking no chances with this operation. 

Robert Queen himself was waiting as the doors opened, his own regular security detail standing off his left shoulder. Father nodded to son and then the CEO’s eyes slipped to the young woman with the determined expression, almost swallowed up by the amount of muscle surrounding her in the elevator. 

“This way,” his father said with a gesture. They marched as a group down the hall to a large conference room surrounded by glass windows; Felicity’s company-issued laptop was already sitting on the table, and a young FBI agent with his own computer sat across from it, waiting for something to happen. 

Agent Lance lifted his chin at the computer tech in greeting and pulled out Felicity’s chair. Oliver realized he’d have to let go of her hand and panicked a little; logically, he knew they had made her as safe as she could be, but his protective instincts were running on overdrive. He squeezed her fingers once and then relaxed his grip to let her pull free. Felicity glanced up at him with the tiniest smile before separating their hands. 

She sat in the rolling chair and pulled it up to the table, already connecting her phone to the laptop in readiness to receive any call or message from Seldon. Her fingers typed in her password and then she glanced back at Lance.

“Now what,” she asked tensely.

The FBI agent crossed his arms. “Now we wait.”

—————————————————————-

Oliver sat awhile, paced awhile, sat some more. He caught Felicity glancing at him, now and again, as her fingers flew over her keyboard; she could do her regular daily work from here, and she had some catching up to do after spending the last few days working on the hack evidence. 

Lance either picked up on the looks she was giving him or Oliver’s unrest was bothering him too, because he finally asked, grumpily, if there was something else he could find to do. Oliver resisted the urge to growl at him. 

“I’m perfectly fine here, Oliver, if you want to go see your dad.” She shrugged. “About whatever.”

Oliver had a sudden flashback to their early morning conversation in bed about the little cabin and its future. Felicity had told him she was confident his father would be willing to listen if Oliver asked that it stay in the family. 

“He won’t know how attached you are to it unless you tell him,” she’d mumbled, burrowing her face against his neck adorably and making both hope and desire spring to life inside him. 

Oliver locked eyes with her across the conference table for a few seconds and then he nodded, pushing back his chair. 

“I’ll be right down the hall,” he promised, as if he was the only thing standing between her and her crazy ex boyfriend and not the phalanx of security he had to squeeze past to get out of the room. 

“I’ll be right here,” she chirped over her shoulder, surprisingly chipper now that she had a computer keyboard to manipulate and her work routine back. The corners of Oliver’s mouth curved up for the first time in a long time. 

The staff he encountered on his walk down the hall that weren’t security—and there weren’t many—seemed jittery and subdued. There would be a lot of supper table discussions about Oliver Queen’s girlfriend from IT, he thought with a sigh. His father’s EA, Jeanine, was the first person to smile at his approach; he gave her one in return and asked to see him. 

He was finishing an overseas conference call as Oliver entered the room and took a seat on the couch furthest from his desk, willing to wait quietly until it was completed. Robert signed off with a few words in German and swiveled his chair with a sigh, rocking back momentarily and offering him a smile. 

“How’s Felicity doing,” he asked, rising to cross the room and take a seat across from his son.

Oliver shrugged. “She’s busy doing computer things, which makes her happy. No word from Seldon.”

“We’ll get him.” He slapped his thighs once, changing the subject. “What brings you by?”

Oliver huffed a laugh as he ran a hand up through his hair. “They kicked me out for being antsy,” he confessed sheepishly, making his father laugh. Maybe Felicity was right; maybe this could work. Oliver took a deep breath. 

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about something. It’s about the cabin.”

Robert’s brow crinkled in thought. “The Alpine Village cabin?” Oliver nodded confirmation. “We put it on the market.”

Oliver nodded again, rubbing his hands against his thighs and then freezing when he realized it made him look nervous. “I know. I took Felicity by to see it and, well, I was hoping you’d reconsider. Selling it.”

The crinkled brow deepened to a frown. “It’s time to let it go, Oliver. We’ve already kept it longer than we should. If you hadn’t been living there the last few winters it would already be gone. There’s plenty of room at the Camp for everyone, and someday that place will be yours. With the proceeds of the sale from the cabin I’m planning to buy the lot next door to the Camp, and one of these days I’ll build your sister a place of her own too.”

Oliver’s hands were rubbing against his thighs again. He started his rebuttal and then hesitated, glancing at the ceiling for inspiration. 

“It’s just...I have a lot of good memories of that place...it, it means a lot to me...”

Robert’s frown deepened. “By ‘good memories’ I assume you mean your years of drunken sexual escapades while you goofed off on the mountain. I don’t consider that a very persuasive argument, Oliver.”

Oliver blinked rapidly as if he’d been slapped. His father raised a warning finger and shook his head, non-plussed. “You have to get your head in the game and start thinking like a businessman, son. Otherwise this isn’t going to finish well.”

Robert Queen stood, indicating their conversation had ended. Oliver, jaw set in anger and humiliation, rose to his feet and focused just past his father’s head. They parted without another word between them. 

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A paper cup of coffee sliding into her eye-line made Felicity pause; Agent Lance was settling into the chair Oliver had recently vacated with the cup for her and one of his own.

“Thanks,” she said softly, trying not to make a face at her first sip of the sugarless offering. Lance grimaced, running his tongue over his front teeth, then swiveled away from the table to reach for the sweetener and creamer. They skittered toward her, not unkindly, and she smiled briefly at him. 

“I have daughters, you know,” he gruffed, rotating the cup with his fingers. Watching for her reaction.

“I know,” she replied brightly, busy adding a second sugar. “Sara. And, um, Laurel, right?” She tipped her head as she glanced at him, to see if she was correct.

Lance’s face expanded into a surprised smile. “He told you about my girls?”

“I actually met Sara, when we went skiing. She’s amazing.”

His smile dropped a notch, and his eyes fell to his coffee again. 

“Figures. She and Queen were always thick as thieves.”

Felicity dropped her chin in an effort to get him to look at her again. “They’re good friends. They’ve helped each other through some bad times, I think.”

Lance’s hand came up to rub over his face and then dropped back to the table. “Yeah. That business with Merlyn...terrible. I don’t know if Laurel will ever get over it.”

“I wish I could’ve met him,” Felicity said softly, mostly to herself. 

“He wasn’t good enough for my girl—“ Lance huffed a laugh and spread his arms—“but nobody would be, right? I bet your dad says the same thing about you.”

Felicity’s gaze dropped to her coffee. “I wouldn’t know. He left when I was little.”

There was an awkward beat of silence and then the agent growled, embarrassed at his slip up, or mad at the man who had given her up. She preferred to think it was the latter. 

“It’s okay, Agent Lance. It’s his loss, right?”

Lance nodded emphatically. “You’re damn right it is.” He suddenly looked curious. “Was that your mom, in the picture I saw on your wall? The blonde?” One hand came up to motion a circle near his own mostly-bald head. She nodded confirmation.

“She lives in Las Vegas.”

His eyes shone for a moment; he was still looking at her, but Felicity got the feeling he wasn’t seeing HER, exactly.

“She’s a pretty lady.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“You look like her.”

Felicity blushed, skimming her palm over her hair with a quick shake of her head. “I dye it, actually.”

There was a shift of bodies behind them by the door and they both looked up; Oliver was standing in the doorway between two burly security men, his hands in his back pockets and an interesting expression on his face. 

“Hey,” she said with a smile. Lance pushed back and stood, taking up his coffee. 

“I’m gonna go check in with John, and then I’ll see about getting everybody some lunch.”

He and Oliver skimmed past each other in the doorway awkwardly, neither one wanting to give way to the other, it seemed. 

Oliver took back his seat and folded his hands on the tabletop. 

“How did it go,” she asked, her mouth pursing into an inquisitive “O” at the end. 

Oliver sighed. “As bad as it possibly could have.”

Felicity groaned. 

“Nothing yet,” he asked, clearly changing the subject. She shook her head no and then blew out a frustrated breath.

“Nothing yet.”

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Oliver returned to the conference room ablaze with hurt and frustration. Today of all days was not the one to let his anger get the best of him, but the thought of causing a scene was so tempting his fists were clenching just imagining it. 

Lance was sitting at his former place at the table, in a conversation with Felicity; Oliver stopped short of going in, waving off the guy closest to the door who was willing to shift out of his way so he could enter. 

Felicity was saying something about Sara; he leaned closer to listen to the agent’s reply.

“Figures. She and Queen were always thick as thieves.” Lance was slumping forward, obviously non-plussed. Oliver started to roll his eyes. Typical.

“They’re good friends. They’ve helped each other through some bad times, I think.” Felicity’s immediate defense of him stopped him cold; he shifted his weight, embarrassed and pleased in equal measure. Her mild correction threw Lance off, and Oliver watched in growing fascination as the man complimented—in a roundabout way—his best friend. 

“I wish I could’ve met him,” he heard Felicity say then; the picture in his head of Tommy with her—the two of them teasing each other and getting along—threatened to bring tears to his eyes. He found his fists relaxing, and stuffed his hands into his back pockets. 

He almost stepped into the room when Lance stuck his foot in his mouth with a crack about her father, but Felicity kept her poise and salvaged the awkward moment with grace and humor. It was clear the FBI agent was smitten with her, and possibly her mother, too. He chose not to think about THAT too much.

When Felicity admitted she dyed her hair Oliver shifted sideways in surprise, jostling the huge suit next to him and causing enough commotion to catch everyone’s attention. Lance, looking embarrassed to be caught chatting, made his escape immediately after, which led to an uncomfortable exchange with Oliver as they both pushed through the doorway in the opposite direction.

He took his seat, already dreading the question Felicity was going to ask. 

“How did it go,” she asked, and as usual he wanted to kiss her, miserable as he was. Lance might be gone, but there were still plenty of people in or near the room; this was definitely not the time to unburden himself. 

“As bad as it possibly could have,” he decided to say, leaving it at that. “Nothing yet?” He meant with Seldon. 

“Nothing yet,” she confirmed. 

————————————————————

Lunch came and went, security shifts changed; only Agent Lance and the computer kid remained with them. Oliver ran a hand through his hair from his spot against the far wall. As worried as he’d been about bringing her in the front entrance this morning, part of him was beginning to think they might need to use more bait. 

Lance must’ve been thinking the same thing, because he got up from his chair and grumbled about calling John with an idea before pushing his way out of the room. Oliver caught Felicity’s eye and they stared each other down in mutual weariness. 

His mouth opened to say “Maybe we should try again tomorrow” when a nearby phone chimed. Felicity’s eyes darted around comically, as if she couldn’t figure out where the sound might be coming from; her eyes fell to the far side of her laptop and froze. 

Oliver and the computer geek shifted forward at the same time as her eyes snapped back to his. 

“It’s him,” she whispered, hardly any sound at all. She reached over and took a screen shot, and then her fingers went to work, flying over the keys. The tech across from her jumped to action as well; for several seconds the room was silent save for the sound of hurried key strokes. 

Oliver pushed off the wall, torn between looking over her shoulder and alerting Agent Lance, but Felicity made the decision for him.

“Get Lance,” she ordered tightly, not even looking up. He took a step to the door.

The guys in the entrance parted like the Red Sea before him just as the lights in the room—and out in the hall—flickered and died. It was still only early afternoon, so there was plenty of natural light, but Felicity gasped anyway, doubling down on the typing in a furious electronic battle with a madman. 

Agent Lance swung around the corner of the doorframe, eyes wide until he found her, working feverishly at her computer. Oliver stepped back to let him in and they both moved to stand behind Felicity’s chair. 

“What did he say,” Lance asked tightly, eyes roving over the screen full of code neither he nor Oliver could begin to understand. She shook her head once, silent; he thought she might be holding her breath, even. 

Something made Oliver look up at the flat screen mounted in the corner of the conference room; he tapped the FBI agent on the arm to get his attention, and then pointed. 

I TOLD YOU TO LET HIM GO, YOU LITTLE BITCH. NOW YOU’LL BOTH SUFFER. 

The message was flashing on the screen in all capitals. 

“Are you doin’ that,” Lance growled softly, mesmerized. Felicity gasped in shock, apparently just seeing it for the first time. Her head shook a ‘no’ quickly and she dropped her gaze back to her own screen. 

“What the hell...”

Oliver heard his father’s voice and swiveled his head to the doorway. 

“It’s on every tv and monitor on the floor. Maybe the building,” Robert informed them with a scowl. 

The room thrummed with nervous energy; Oliver glanced at the wall of windows facing the hallway to find it full of executive level employees, watching them silently as if Felicity was a zoo exhibit. A couple of minutes later Oliver felt the lightest touch at his elbow. He dropped his crossed arms to his side without even turning his head, knowing it was his mother who would be slipping her hand around his arm. 

“He’s hacking QC again.” Felicity finally broke the silence with the news everyone in the room suspected already. She shook her head without letting her eyes leave her computer screen. “I can’t chase him down and protect our system at the same time.”

“Call IT,” Robert said, turning his head to look for Jeanine, but someone behind them reminded him that the landline was also down. He swore softly but harshly under his breath.

“I need paper,” Felicity said suddenly. A pad and pen were gathered up from the far side of the room and passed around until they came to Oliver, who set them down at her elbow. She spared a hand to scribble something down, her eyes darting back and forth as she worked. “Curtis needs this. He can organize the rest of IT and get us shored back up. He’ll know what to do.”

“Elevators are down too,” one of the security team said. Oliver ripped the top sheet off the pad and turned to the door. 

“I’ll take the stairs.”

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

Her world became her laptop, the keyboard an extension of her fingers. She focused down until she could almost imagine herself shrinking enough to fit inside the circuitry, flying through the ether in pursuit. She knew Cooper couldn’t hide from her now; she’d scooped up too many of the breadcrumbs he’d left behind. 

But she needed to catch up to him before he destroyed Queen Consolidated.

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

A member of security went with him, one of their personal staff who sometimes went running with Oliver if he decided to leave the property. They jogged down twelve flights of stairs under the harsh yellow emergency lighting in good time; Oliver joked quietly that the trip back was going to be a real bitch as they hit the door into the hall at a run. 

Curtis and his fellow IT geeks were scattered throughout the room in clumps of low conversation and concern. All eyes flew to the son of the CEO as he strode into the room with searching eyes, catching sight of Curtis and motioning him over. 

“Is this Felicity’s crazy ex-boyfriend,” the taller man asked as Oliver handed him the piece of paper. “I knew that guy was trouble.”

Oliver ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Yeah. It is. Felicity’s busy tracking him down so the FBI can grab him, but he’s hacking QC. Again.”

Curtis’s eyes went wide. “That was him? Before?” Oliver nodded. 

“She needs you to hold him off while she hunts him down.” Oliver’s eyes indicated the paper. “She said you’d know what to do with that.”

Curtis studied her scrawl briefly and nodded. “I’m on it.”

As Oliver turned away he was already calling instructions to his fellow employees; the desktop computers were useless with the power out, but anyone with a company laptop was mobilizing. Oliver blew out a huge breath in anticipation of the climb back up to the executive floor.

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

The lights in the room flickered to life and a collective sigh rippled through the crowd of people behind her, but just as quickly they died again. Robert Queen muttered a vehement “Dammit” that made Felicity’s shoulders scrunch briefly toward her ears; an angry CEO was not going to make this any easier. 

She’d breathe better when Oliver was back in the room. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

“C’mon,” Oliver grit out under his breath when they were three floors from their destination; stair workouts were definitely a killer. His shadow was huffing behind him but keeping pace without a problem. 

They were rounding the landing between sets of stairs when a terrific bang exploded near their heads, showering sparks everywhere; Oliver yelped in surprise. A hand came down hard on his shoulder, pushing him low and forward up the stairs, urging him to keep going even when the emergency lights further ahead similarly exploded. Oliver’s arms came up instinctively to cover his head as he felt the sting of sparks against his arms and face. 

They made the last two flights at a dead run, their ragged breaths echoing in the near-blackness of the stairwell. Fucking Seldon. If he ever got the chance to meet him face to face he was going to make it memorable. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

There was a murmur of conversation behind her that was really beginning to get on her nerves. 

“Speak up or shut up,” Felicity snapped; straining to hear was ruining her concentration. She heard Agent Lance clear his throat nervously.

“We’re discussing evacuating the building. And I just talked to John. He’s catching the next flight out.”

Felicity nodded once in thanks. The evacuation debate continued at a higher volume so she could participate. Robert was all for cutting the day short for his employees—as most of them had nothing to do without power anyway—but his Head of Security was arguing that a thousand people evacuating at once would make it nearly impossible to spot Seldon if he decided to enter the building. Quentin was starting to add his two cents when a commotion in the hall made them all turn. Oliver and his security detail pushed into the room, sweat-soaked and gasping. 

“I got the message to Curtis. They’re on it,” he hissed through his teeth as he tried to catch his breath. Felicity’s head whipped away from her computer screen to look at him. 

“The emergency lights exploded as we were coming back up the stairs,” he explained.

Cooper. For just a second her fists clenched with rage.

“Are you hurt?”

Oliver flashed her a tight grin. “Only slightly singed.”

Behind his shoulder she saw Lance throw his arms up in disgust. “Well that answers the evacuation question,” he muttered. 

“We have another problem,” a new voice piped up from the hallway. 

“Head of Engineering,” Oliver murmured helpfully near her ear so she wouldn’t have to turn around.

“The emergency generators have all blown. At once. I’ve never seen anything like it. We’re not getting electricity back anytime soon.”

“And no heat either, I suppose,” Robert Queen growled. 

“That’s where the story gets weird,” the man continued with an exasperated sigh. “The heat’s still working. Overtime. It’s already 75 degrees everywhere. And climbing.”

Felicity’s heart began to pound painfully. This was all very very bad, and at least partly her fault. She paused to flex her fingers and swallowed hard.

“Hey,” Oliver whispered close by, “this is not your fault, okay? Seldon’s the asshole who’s responsible. And you’re going to get him.”

Felicity blinked furiously and nodded agreement, already back at work. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

An hour passed. His mother had drifted out of the room first, his father a few minutes later. It was already warm with the number of bodies in the room, but the rising heat was making it increasingly difficult to stay put. 

Further conversations about evacuating the building had led to the idea of emptying a floor at a time down the stairwells. A knot of security in the doorway and the hall was all that remained of their morning escort; the rest had been assigned to lower floors. Agent Lance was running around everywhere; Felicity had warned that Seldon was probably checking their cell phone and radio traffic, so they had cut back all communication to only word-of-mouth—and even that much with one eye open for security cameras. 

“He knew you were in the stairwell,” Felicity had said tightly, her knuckles white from the fists she was making. The brush of Oliver’s fingers against her hair was meant to be soothing. 

He shifted in his seat, down to the tee shirt under his Henley but still stifling. Across the table his eyes raked over the FBI’s computer geek, visibly sweating. Felicity was still focused down, completely absorbed in her search. 

“My battery’s running low,” the kid said, his eyes flicking up to try to catch Felicity’s.

“I’m close to having him,” she bit out in reply; he could tell her teeth were clenched. 

Oliver sat very still, not even daring to breathe deep and distract anyone. A runner had reported that two floors were now evacuated successfully. He tried not think about the twenty-nine others still waiting to be emptied. God. 

She asked for water; what had already been in the room was long gone, and a trip to the kitchenette revealed Seldon had managed to shut the water off too. Oliver threw a punch at the cabinet door in front of him and felt strangely better. There were still water bottles in the fridge; he gathered up three and headed back. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

Emergencies were terrible times to have to pee, Felicity decided, wiggling in her seat. It was now past five o’clock and most of the building was empty; only five floors remained to be cleared. The thermostat read 87 degrees. 

“How long now,” Lance asked quietly, behind her. Oliver was back there too, leaning on the wall but filled with tension.

“I have it narrowed to a two block radius. I just need a few more minutes and I can give you an address.”

“My battery just died,” the computer guy—his name was Justin—announced in defeat. Felicity spared a hand to swipe across her forehead and worked on.

“Do we have an unobstructed stairwell to get her down,” Lance asked the building security behind him in a low voice. Before the man could answer the telephone in the room rang. There was a mildly comical moment as everyone gaped at the sound before Lance lunged for it and answered. 

“Phones are back,” he reported unnecessarily, and then fell silent to listen. He thanked the caller and hung up with a sigh. 

“Curtis got the service elevator up and running,” he said softly. “We’ll get you out that way as soon as you’re finished.”

Across from her, Justin closed up his laptop and gathered his things, ready to go with; from the corner of her eye she caught Oliver grabbing his discarded shirt from the chair next to her. Everyone fell silent as they waited.

“Got him,” she whisper shouted, triumphant at last. She scribbled down an address and flipped the pad behind her for Lance to catch. He in turn handed it off to a runner to deliver all the way downstairs to the city cops waiting out in front of the building; they’d been on standby for hours in anticipation of a takedown. 

“Keep typing,” Lance ordered over his shoulder. “If he’s watching we don’t want to give him a heads up that we’re on to him.”

Felicity heard Oliver growl in frustration behind her but obeyed; she switched to lending Curtis a hand at protecting QC’s computer system with whatever battery life she had left. 

These were the most torturous minutes of the whole day, she decided, her tired fingers stumbling over their work and her sight blurry, trying to fool Cooper into thinking he still had the upper hand.

“Frack,” she whispered once, to no one in particular. Oliver shifted off the wall and kneaded her shoulders gently. 

At 5:35 the runner returned with the news that SCPD was enroute to the address Felicity had given them, with a five minute ETA. She slumped forward in relief and let her hands fall into her lap.

“Time to go,” Lance growled in reply, already hauling on her elbow as Oliver scooped up her computer and phone. 

“Wha—“ she protested ineffectually, needing a quick trip to the ladies but realizing as they jogged to the service elevator that it probably wasn’t going to happen. 

Oliver’s parents rounded the corner from the opposite direction just as they were stepping into the elevator; unlike the public cars, this one had room for everyone to crowd aboard.  
Felicity stood wedged between Oliver and Lance, with Robert Queen’s broad shoulders directly in front of her. The stuffiness of the car nearly made her faint; if they hadn’t been packed in like sardines she might’ve gone down. 

This car bypassed the lobby and went straight to the underground garage level. The doors opened to temperatures a good 30 degrees cooler than the rest of the building and everyone inside made some noise of relief. Three big SUVs were pulled up in a line as close to the doors as they could get. Someone—not Oliver—hauled her by the elbow out of the car and got her moving behind the Queens, but that hand was quickly replaced by Oliver’s, she could tell by the way he crowded up against her as they walked. 

Robert and Moira were directed to the first vehicle as Lance led the way to the next one in line. She clambered up into the vehicle and slid across the seat as Oliver entered behind her; the relief of the cool air was gone, replaced by a chill that made her teeth chatter. Without being asked Oliver popped his Henley over her head and helped her into the sleeves before securing her seatbelt and wrapping an arm around her.

They peeled out of the garage where a cruiser—lights flashing—led the line of big black cars out of the city and onto the highway for home. They were nearing their exit when Lance’s phone rang. 

“They got him,” he confirmed triumphantly over his shoulder. Oliver squeezed her closer and dropped a kiss at her temple as she went boneless against him. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Oliver’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he shifted both of them to the side crazily as he dug it out of his pocket, making Felicity giggle. “Probably my dad,” he said absently as he flipped it over. His brow crinkled with curiosity as he read the screen.

“It’s Carol,” he said, his eyes flicking to Felicity’s. “She said she’d call when the flu quarantine was lifted.” He accepted the call and put it to his ear. 

She was crying so hard he could hardly understand her.


	31. Chapter 31

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

Oliver’s brow, already crinkled at the surprise of Carol’s call, contracted in the center and he swallowed thickly. Felicity watched, fascinated first and then horrified, as his eyes dropped to stare at his knees and then filled inexplicably with tears. He blinked rapidly and nodded without speaking; his goodbye was a hoarse whisper, and when the call ended he set the phone on the seat beside him, forgotten, and rubbed both palms against his knees as if seeking comfort. 

“Oliver?” Felicity reached out for him and captured his arm, suddenly needing reassurance, for what she didn’t know. 

“Um,” he said softly, swiping under the corner of his eye with one hand, “that was...Carol. She called to say—“ He broke off his sentence to look up and out his window for a long moment. Felicity’s hand slid down along his arm until she reached his hand and threaded her fingers through his. He turned to look down at their hands and then up at her. “Mary passed away about an hour ago,” he whispered. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Dusk had fallen by the time the caravan of SUVs turned up the long drive to the Queen mansion and came to a stop at the front of the house. Oliver took a couple of deep breaths before reaching for the door handle, and by the time he was swinging the door open Agent Lance was there, a concerned look on his face. 

Oliver remembered his phone at the last minute as he slid out of the seat, returning it to his pocket as his feet hit the driveway. He turned back for Felicity’s hand, and that’s when Quentin leaned in.

“Hey, kid. I’m sorry,” he said softly, just for the two of them to hear. Oliver nodded as he stared towards the ground, watching Felicity’s feet settle on the running board on her way out of the car. His eyes flicked to hers for a second, but there was so much sadness there he had to look away again or compromise his barely-held composure. 

Lance reached out to Felicity and pulled her into his arms for a second; Oliver thought he might’ve whispered something to her, but he couldn’t be sure. She never let go of Oliver’s hand the whole time. 

“I’ll see ya around,” he growled at both of them as he let go of her and stepped back so they could move on.

“Thank you for everything, Agent Lance,” Oliver managed, holding out his hand. Quentin took it with a lopsided smile.

“That’s Mister Lance to you,” he teased gently. Oliver’s mouth twitched up in acknowledgement.

His parents were waiting at the top of the steps; his mother, especially, watched him closely with concern. They climbed the steps together, hand in hand, Felicity jogging up the last couple in order to keep up. 

“Oliver,” Moira questioned, reaching for his free hand as they made the top step. “What is it? What’s happened.” He watched her gaze slide to Felicity and her concern grow. 

“A resident of the nursing home...a friend of ours...passed away today. I got the call on the way here.”

“Oh Oliver.” She tipped her head in understanding and sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

Her other hand gripped Felicity’s arm lightly but she let them go, stepping aside to allow Oliver to lead the way into the house. Moira followed them in, though Robert stayed back to consult with the security that had accompanied them home. 

“Felicity, I’m sure it’s safe for you to go back home now that he’s in custody, but we would love to have you stay another night if you can. Let us take care of you while you process—“ she shook her head—“everything.”

“Thank you, Mrs Queen,” Felicity replied softly, the first thing she’d said since she’d used his name in the car. Oliver already had a foot on the first stair, definitely not up to eating with the family. His mother read his mood correctly and tipped her head. 

“Why don’t I have Raisa bring some dinner up to your room? To give you two some peace and quiet.”

“Thanks mom,” he said, meaning it. He squeezed Felicity’s hand and started up the stairs. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

The rest of the night was mostly silent. Oliver started the shower without comment, ushering her to the bathroom first; he was sitting slumped forward on the edge of the bed when she came back out in her pjs, towel-drying her hair in a daze. Raisa appeared with a tray of soup and sandwiches while he was in the bathroom. They ate together, but in their own worlds. 

It was hardly eight o’clock when Oliver pulled the covers back on the bed and helped Felicity climb in ahead of him. They wound themselves around each other and immediately slept.

————————————————————-

The spot next to her was empty when Felicity finally opened her eyes; the clock told her it was after six. Ten hours. She rolled over and pushed her face into the space between the pillows, not tired anymore but not ready to get out from the cocoon of bedding just yet. She didn’t have to pee, which meant she was dehydrated; she couldn’t bring herself to care about that, either.

She heard the bedroom door open and lifted her head as Oliver slipped into the room; even without her glasses she could tell he was wet from head to toe. 

“Sorry. Did I wake you,” he asked, closing the door just as softly and crossing the room with his arms held slightly away from his sides. 

“No, it’s okay,” Felicity croaked back. She really was dehydrated. “Is it raining?”

“Oh. Uh, no. I woke up early, so I went for a run.”

She nodded, still processing. Man he was wet for a winter run. “How far did you go?”

Oliver’s head lifted and he stared into nowhere for a second before answering. 

“Twelve miles or so,” he said softly. 

He disappeared into the bathroom and soon after she heard the shower start; she gave him a three minute head start to rinse off and then slipped in to the bathroom to join him. They held each other and swayed under the hot spray of water for a long, long time. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Robert and Moira were just finishing breakfast as they walked into the dining room; both of them looked somber. Oliver watched his father take in Felicity’s dress and heels as confirmation that she would be going to work.

“We can take you in with us this morning, Felicity. Power has been restored and the heating issue is fixed, but there will be some reports to finalize with the authorities.” He paused. “You understand.”

Felicity nodded once. “I do,” she said softly. They crossed over to the laden buffet but she only chose a bottle of water and a muffin. Oliver put a hand against her back.

“You sure you don’t want more to eat,” he asked softly.

She shook her head quickly, already turning. “This is fine, Oliver. I’ll get coffee at work.” Behind them his parents got up from the table in preparation to leave, and the sudden thought of being without her for the day, in the state they were both in, made him a little panicky.

“I can drive you in, if you need more time to eat—“

“I said it’s fine, Oliver,” she cut him off, pulling her elbow from his grip and making him wonder, as she walked out of the room behind his parents, if he had been holding onto her too hard. 

She paused in the doorway and turned. Her eyes met his and then glanced away.

“Sorry. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Oliver’s empty hand dropped to his side and he nodded. 

——————————————————————-

An hour later, at loose ends, Oliver decided to go to the nursing home, flu restrictions or no. The signs were still taped to the lobby doors but he ignored them and strode straight into the building.

Carol happened to be passing by as he walked through; he almost didn’t get his hands out of his coat pockets before she was on him, wrapping her arms around him in a giant mama bear hug. 

“Oh Oliver. I’m so sorry,” she sniffed. He nodded above her but couldn’t speak yet. It was too fresh. She let go of him and stepped back to look him in the eye. “Come to my office. I have a couple of things for you.”

Her voice wobbled a bit at the end, and Oliver found himself swiping a hand under his lashes as he walked behind her. He took a seat across from her and folded his hands together, wishing Felicity was there to hold one of them. 

Carol excused herself to blow her nose before picking up the purple file folder that had traditionally held his work hours. She extracted a sheet of stationery and pushed it toward him, her eyes filling up again. 

Oliver’s fingers snagged it off the desk and held it gingerly.

“She dictated—well, you’ll see when you read it,” Carol finished, waving her hand at it faintly. She blew her nose again while he read. 

“Dear Oliver,  
I’m making Carol write this as I dictate. You don’t want to read my chicken scratches. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the cancer, but there wasn’t a thing you could do about it anyway, so I decided not to worry you. I’m too old for chemo or surgery. All that poking and prodding would just annoy me.

I hope by now you and Felicity have reconciled and are as right as rain, but if not know that she loves you. She had a good cry about it the last time she visited me. I know you two are meant to be. 

I asked Carol to keep hold of a couple of things for you and Felicity. My lawyer said it should wait to be given out until after, with everything else, but I never liked him anyway. Besides, I didn’t want my ungrateful children getting ahold of it first. They have done well for themselves on their own and don’t need my stuff anyway. It seems funny to say that to a billionaire, but it’s true. I trust you to use everything I’m leaving you to DO GOOD THINGS. 

Thank you for making my last days here fun, or at least interesting. And thank you for the snow angels. It is no good to get so old you outlive your spouse and your friends, my dear; take care of them always. 

Give my love to Felicity, along with the little music box. 

Love,  
Mary

PS Don’t forget you’re speaking at my funeral. A promise is a promise.”

The further he read, the more Oliver’s leg bounced as he fought to keep from crying. He didn’t dare look up because Carol was sniffing again, and he knew it would only make it harder to hold himself together if he saw her upset.

“She was so proud of you, Oliver,” Carol whispered, and a little moan of sadness escaped him. “We all are.”

“Carol,” he choked out, “her funeral. I’ve never...I don’t know what...” He trailed off, lost. 

“Just tell everyone what you loved about her. You’ll know the right thing. Remember, she asked you for a reason.”

She pushed two small boxes across the desk toward him; one was the music box for Felicity, which he didn’t open but deposited into his coat pocket. 

The other was clearly a ring box.

Oliver made a tsk sound under his breath, his eyes filling and then spilling over with tears as he dragged it toward him and flipped up the lid. A good-sized solitaire in a silver setting sat in the velvet-lined box. 

“It’s the engagement ring from her second marriage,” Carol explained with a watery smile. “She was always saying you reminded her of him.”

Oliver chuckled and wiped his eyes again. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. He closed the lid and rotated the box between his fingers for a minute. “When’s the funeral,” he whispered.

Carol swallowed hard before answering. “Her ashes are being sent back to Central City. Her children will have a service there. But we’re going to have a small memorial here, on Monday morning.”

Oliver nodded acknowledgement; his eyes hadn’t left the ring box. 

“We think the flu restrictions will be lifted over the weekend, but until then...I’m sorry, Oliver. You’ll have to be gone just a bit longer.”

He stood slowly with a quick shake of his head. “It’s no problem. I’ll see you Monday.” He put the ring box in the opposite pocket from the little music box and moved to the door.

Carol stood to follow, intending to walk him out. Just as they reached the entrance doors she laid a hand on his arm.

“Um, Oliver. How ARE you and Felicity...”

He looked down at her and smiled gently. “We’re fine. Great, actually.”

Carol’s hundred watt smile showed through for a second and she squeezed his arm.

“See you Monday. 10:30.”

“Bye Carol,” he whispered.

JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD 

It had been a crazy twelve hours. 

Forget the new-baby sleep deprivation and the days of worrying over Cooper Seldon stalking Felicity; the three hour time change between east and west coast was making his eyes cross with fatigue. He’d gone straight to the seedy motel where Seldon had been holed up and spent several hours supervising the retrieval of evidence before checking in to his own hotel well after midnight for a few hours of sleep. 

But Queen—Robert Queen, CEO—had insisted on seeing him first thing this morning, so he found himself cradling a cup of black coffee and trying not to sway on his feet as he waited in front of the EA’s desk. 

“This way, Agent Diggle.” The EA led him down the hall to a glass-walled conference room where several people were already seated; one of them was Felicity. She watched as he entered—she was biting her lip—and she looked like she wanted to throw herself into his arms, but the room was full of executives in suits, which must be intimidating for someone her age. He gave her a reassuring nod and left it at that. 

The interview was brief—mostly Queen wanted to know how this incident was going to affect his shareholders—and soon everyone was rising to their feet to continue their day. Felicity took her time standing, smoothing her dress with both hands as she waited for the others to file out. 

“Hey,” he said, gazing down at her as the last body left the room. “How you holdin’ up?”

She tipped her head up to meet his eyes. “It’s over, right?”

John nodded slowly. “It’s over. We found evidence that he’d been stalking you for a couple of weeks; photos, videos...an audio recording that will never see the light of day, I promise.” 

“Oh god,” she moaned, dropping her face into her hands. He felt his own face get hot.

“That, combined with the two hacks on Queen Consolidated and the damage it did will make sure he ends up right back in prison, fancy new lawyer or no.”

She dropped her hands and her shoulders settled a little just as his phone vibrated with an incoming call.

“How’s your boyfriend,” John asked casually, checking the caller ID; it was from his superior here in Starling City. He held up a finger and watched her gaze shift out into the hallway as he took the call.

He held his sigh in until it ended; Felicity was looking at him again, her head tipping in curiosity. “Bad news,” she asked. 

“Not bad, just...” He trailed off and sighed again. “The team out here has another case they want me to consult on, since I came all this way. It’ll just keep me here a little longer than I’d intended.”

“How’s the new baby,” she asked suddenly, her eyes brightening a little. He took a sip of coffee and smiled. 

“She’s amazing.” He chuckled. “She sleeps a lot, but only during the day.” 

“Agent Lance didn’t know what you named her.”

John huffed a laugh in reply. “That’s because she still doesn’t have one. Lyla didn’t want to be set on a name ahead of time. There was a strict ‘No baby name discussions’ policy in our house for nine months. And now that we need one...”

“You’re drawing a blank,” Felicity finished. 

“Let’s just say the negotiations are intense right now.”

Her forehead crinkled adorably. “Well you must call her something.”

“In her first ultrasound picture she looked like a peanut. It kinda stuck.”

Felicity smiled broadly.

“How’s Oliver,” he tried again. He was relieved to see her smile stay.

“Things are good. Well...” she paused, her eyes dropping. “A friend of ours passed away yesterday, so...but he and I are fine.”

John dropped a gentle hand on her shoulder and waited for her to look back up at him. “I’m sorry about your friend, but I’m glad you’re doing well. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, John.”

He nodded once and dropped his hand. “It’s probably time for me to get back to work. You’ve caused me a lot of paperwork, young lady.”

Felicity gave him a wry smile over her shoulder as she led the way out the door. 

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Felicity and Oliver texted not much later; when she told him she’d seen John, Oliver suggested they try to get together for dinner on Saturday, which made her smile. 

Her day was mostly quiet, though she made sure to stay on the executive floor where her daily co-workers couldn’t come around to gawk and ask questions. The Queens had thought it best she stay close because of all the authorities still gathering information and tying up loose ends. 

Oliver texted right after lunch to say he was coming in to QC and would drive her home. Felicity smiled at her laptop screen and continued her work. 

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Sometime between his text with Felicity about Agent Diggle and a quick lunch, Oliver had an idea. The craziness of the day before had faded enough for the painful memory of his conversation with his father in his office over the fate of the little cabin to rear its ugly head. He shied away from the humiliation of it initially, then waded back into it, picking it apart, looking at it from all sides. One statement of his father’s stood out: “You have to get your head in the game and start thinking like a businessman, son. Otherwise this isn’t going to finish well.”

Businessman. Think like a businessman. Oliver nodded at nothing, staring into the distance, and grabbed his phone to call Walter. 

—————————————————————-

He found himself waiting outside the CFO’s office a couple of hours later; Walter had a jam-packed day, but his EA managed to find a slot of time, so here he was. 

Walter waved him in with a smile and they both sat. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of time today, Oliver, but yesterday’s events, as you can imagine....” He trailed off; no need to explain, they’d both been there.

“Absolutely. I won’t take up your time, Walter. I just need to liquidate some of my shares. Please.” 

The older man’s head tipped in curiosity. Oliver sat up straight and kept his hands in his lap; no fidgeting, no agitation. Be a businessman, he repeated to himself. 

“How many were you thinking,” he asked mildly.

Oliver had already spent some time internet researching. “$300,000 worth should do it,” he said matter-of-factly. Cool as a cucumber.

Walter blinked. Silence stretched between them, but Oliver schooled himself to keep quiet. The CFO’s mouth opened and closed once, contemplating. 

“Of course, Oliver. You control the shares.”

“Thank you, Walter.”

Walter leaned forward for his keyboard and got to work on the forms.

A few minutes and a couple of signatures later, Walter asked for the routing number of the account Oliver planned to use. 

“Oliver,” he ventured quietly as he typed in the account number, “You don’t have to tell me, of course, but I’d be curious to know...” His British sense of decorum wouldn’t allow him to continue; he trailed off with a sigh and Oliver grinned. 

“It’s okay, Walter. I’m planning to buy some real estate.” 

The man looked relieved. 

Oliver winked as he stood and held out his hand. “You probably thought it was for a party,” he teased, his feet six inches off the floor now that the transaction was settled. 

Walter smiled as he unfolded from his chair to shake. “Or an engagement ring,” he chuckled, his eyes bright with laughter. Oliver thought of the ring box in his coat pocket and smiled enigmatically.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my dears, you don’t know how many times I wanted to reach out and assure you that this is NOT an abandoned fic! My Olicity Secret Santa gift has been submitted and all my other WIPs are complete, so take heart that you will receive the conclusion to this fic soon—there’s some good stuff yet to go! In the meantime (I hope you haven’t forgotten the plot—ha!) enjoy the latest chapter with a bonus scene we were cruelly denied in 7.08. (wink wink)

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The difference in Oliver’s demeanor from breakfast to the end of the work day when he rounded the corner into the conference room was night and day. Felicity felt her shoulders lift and her chest lighten just looking at him. 

“Something happened,” she said, pushing back her chair to stand as he approached, absorbing the excited energy radiating off him in waves. “What is it?”

Oliver’s eyes danced. “Can I make it a surprise? I want it to be a surprise.”

He was almost giddy; it made Felicity laugh with delight. “Sure,” she said, grinning. “It can be a surprise.”

Oliver looped an arm around her waist and stole a quick kiss, but stepped back to a respectable distance when he saw Jeanine pass by—probably on an errand for his father—outside the window. She quirked an eyebrow at them but kept walking. 

“How soon til you’re done for the day,” he asked, his hand sneaking back around her waist. Felicity blushed at his boldness, especially when either of his parents could walk by at any moment. She turned away to close down her laptop and gather her things. 

“I just need to run this stuff back down to my desk, and then we can go.”

“Can I take you to dinner? I feel like we’ve been cooped up for a year.” Oliver held his hand out for her computer and tucked it under his arm protectively, ready to follow her out to the elevator. 

“Dinner sounds AMAZING,” she groaned, suddenly starving. 

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They chose a cafe tucked away in a side street, small and cozy. It was early enough for them to have the place mostly to themselves; they took advantage of the quiet and pushed their chairs close together so they could cuddle. 

Felicity related her conversation with John Diggle and he told her about seeing Carol.

“Mary asked me to speak at her service,” he said quietly, arms crossed on the table with one of Felicity’s hands nestled within. “We used to joke about it.” His voice was soft, and sad. 

Felicity leaned closer and rested her chin on his shoulder. 

“I think you’re the perfect choice,” she assured him softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Oliver sat up straight, untangling his arms with her to reach behind for his coat on the back of his chair. 

“I almost forgot.” His hand came up with the music box from his coat pocket. “Here.”

He set it on the table in front of her; Felicity made a sad little “Oh” sound and ran her fingers over it. 

“It’s beautiful,” she cooed, opening the lid and inspecting the music box mechanism for a moment. Oliver nodded agreement; he didn’t mention the box in his other pocket. 

They conversed quietly over their meal, discussing ideas for the eulogy; Felicity made helpful notes for him on her phone and then emailed it to him. 

“We should set up dinner with Agent Diggle for tomorrow night,” Oliver suggested as they strolled out of the cafe, Felicity’s arm in his. He was just about to step off the curb when she stopped and tugged at his arm. Her upturned face was sweet and gently pleading. 

“You think we could stay at my place tonight?” 

Her look was so earnest Oliver couldn’t help but smile. “We? Really?” 

Felicity nodded vigorously and he laughed. 

“I think we can make that happen.”

Oliver drove them to the mansion, and by eight o’clock they were dragging her stuff—and a bag for him—back into her apartment.

“Home sweet home,” she sighed happily, dropping her bag next to the couch and flopping onto it with her arms flung out. Oliver smiled indulgently as he passed behind her, his arms laden. 

“Where should this go,” he asked, his eyebrows lifted in query as he held up the shopping bag with the rug in it so she could see. A gleam came to her eye, giving him a jolt of desire. 

“That,” she decided, drawing the word out, “should stay right here in the living room.” Oliver obligingly dropped the bag behind the couch and was preparing to walk on into the bedroom when he heard her mumble, “Too bad I don’t have a fireplace,” to herself. 

“Our next place will,” he assured her without thinking, then stopped dead.

When he turned his head to look back, Felicity’s eyes were huge.

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It is sooo good to be back in my apartment, she thought as soon as she unlocked the front door. There was a ton of stuff to unload from Oliver’s car, but first she needed to reacquaint herself with her super-comfy couch. Felicity dumped her load on the floor and practically threw herself onto the cushions. 

“Where should this go,” she heard Oliver ask, and swiveled her head to see what he had. It was the bag holding the big fluffy rug; just the sight of it made her want to jump him. 

“That,” she drawled out, “should stay right here in the living room.” The other times they’d used it recently flashed through her head, and she suddenly realized what they were missing. “Too bad I don’t have a fireplace,” she added, mostly to herself. 

Oliver began turning away, and as he did so she heard “Our next place will”. Felicity froze, uncertain; her brain turned a little mushy as she played his words over in her head. Had he really said that out loud, or was she projecting? Or hallucinating, maybe.

But as she froze, so did he; only his head turned back to her, and when it did she KNEW: He’d really said it. Oliver-freaking-Queen had just said ‘our’ in relation to a future apartment. As in them. They. She and Oliver. Felicity’s mouth opened and closed once, twice, then her teeth clicked together. 

“I’m...gonna put this in the bedroom,” he said, sort of high and strained. Felicity nodded dumbly and watched him move out of the room. 

She texted John to invite him to dinner with blood pounding in her ears; he replied back almost immediately, happy to accept. She gave him her address and a time, then popped up off the couch to unload the various bags of her stuff still littering the living room. It took Oliver a long time to emerge from the bedroom.

“Would you, um, like me to make some popcorn?”

He was standing with his hands in his pockets, kind of shy and awkward. Felicity nodded with a little “Sure” under her breath, but suddenly very UNsure about the change in him. His slip about ‘their next place’ had affected them both, but now he looked embarrassed to have said it. Like he wanted to take it back. 

A zing of fear shot through her.

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Oliver could’ve kicked himself, he felt so stupid. After all the plans he’d been stewing over the past few hours he’d slipped up and almost given the whole game away. He took his time putting stuff up, inventing things to do to buy himself some time to think. What would he say if she asked him to clarify? 

In the end he decided to act like he’d never said it. He made them popcorn and Felicity curled up against him while they surfed Netflix. A happy couple without a care in the world. 

——————————————————————-

She was up before him the next morning, wrapped in a blanket on the living room couch and working furiously on her tablet. Oliver ran his fingers through her hair as he shuffled past on the way to the kitchen. 

“Whatcha doin?”

She looked up once with a brief smile. “Something for Mary’s memorial service. Can I see your phone?”

Oliver yawned as he handed it over, then stopped to stretch and scratch absently across his stomach before resuming his quest for coffee. 

She was so intent on her task Oliver finally pushed the coffee table out of the way and executed a hundred push ups and sit ups to pass the time. 

“You’re distracting,” he heard once, not missing the heat in her voice. 

“Mission accomplished.” He blew out a long slow breath as he rested, arms hanging over his knees and ankles crossed. “Can I see?”

“When it’s done, okay?” Her eyes lifted from her work and she gazed at him with her bottom lip caught under her teeth. Oliver grinned. 

“Sure.”

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The idea had come to her just as she was falling asleep; the perfect way to showcase Mary’s personality at her memorial service. Felicity woke at her usual time, even though it was the weekend. Oliver was still out cold, so she slid out of bed and took her phone with her to the couch. 

An internet search later she had a plan, and a place that would provide same-day service. All she needed now was Oliver’s phone. 

The thought of him made her lower her own phone into her lap with a sigh. Nothing more had been said about that comment from the night before, but it was obvious they were both thinking about it while they pretended to watch...whatever it was they’d been watching. Felicity shook her head quickly to clear it; probably best to pretend it never happened, she decided.

——————————————————————

Despite his distracting workout she was able to get what she needed off his phone and placed her order, then tossed it to the end of the couch at her feet. She stretched her hands over her head with a giant yawn and smiled lazily at him. 

“You want breakfast?”

Felicity’s smile turned wicked. “I want a shower.”

Oliver rolled to his feet in one smooth motion and stalked toward her with a gleam in his eye. She shrieked with surprise and glee when he scooped her up off the couch and carried her bridal style into the bathroom. 

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A fireplace and a bigger bathroom, he thought absently, tugging her tank top up over her head and smacking his elbow against the wall as he discarded it to the floor. She was completely adorable with her messy bed hair and the impression of the elastic waistband of her jettisoned pj bottoms still on her skin. Oliver dropped to his knees and nuzzled his way across her stomach, tracing the indented pattern with his tongue. 

Felicity sighed as she ran her hands through his hair, gripping and pulling lightly on the strands between her fingers. 

“We should probably turn the water on,” she teased, and giggled when he reached out to fumble blindly for the controls. While the water heated he took the opportunity to push her a step back against the wall and explore lower. Her moan was almost drowned out by the sound of the running water.

He opened her wide with the flat of his tongue and slid his hands up the backs of her thighs to grip her ass and tilt her pelvis further toward him. 

“Oliver...” she sighed, making his dick twitch hard. He made a sound of need deep in his chest and stroked his tongue up through her folds until he could gather her clit into his mouth. He felt her hands spasm against his head as he gently sucked, and was rewarded with the sound of her palms slapping against the wall as her pleasure built.

He slipped a hand downward so he could slide a finger inside her, and Felicity’s sighs turned to whimpers of need. It almost made him surge to his feet right then, but he wanted—needed—to finish this for her. Long, slow pumps of his finger pushed her over; her knees gave out as the wave took her, making her slump forward over his shoulder while her senses exploded.

He worked her through her release, desperate to be inside her as soon as humanly possible but reining in his need until Felicity’s was satisfied. Oliver didn’t let go until he felt her take her own weight again, then he rocked back onto the balls of his feet and gathered her up as he stood. It felt effortless, lifting her so her legs could settle around his waist, her center just shy of where he needed her. With one hand under her ass to hold her steady he reached out to slide the curtain open and stepped over the edge of the tub into the shower. 

With the last of his control he timed the moment he pushed inside her with the warm water hitting Felicity’s back, making her gasp. He found he could turn them sideways into the spray and put her back against the tiled wall of the shower so his free hand could brace them as he fucked her. 

Her face was against his, dripping with water, her mouth open and questing for his. Oliver widened his stance and thrust upwards as he kissed her, wild and dirty. Her arms were around his neck, her hands skating along his shoulders and across his back, nails out. It made him see stars.

“Oliver...” 

He grunted and shifted her higher and that’s when she cried out. The sound swept him away with it, his rhythm gone, and for one long moment his universe consisted only of his body spilling into hers and the pounding of the water against his skin. 

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Oliver held her against the wall, one arm secure under her ass and bearing all her weight since her legs had long ago lost their usefulness around his waist. He was still inside of her, a part of her. She never wanted him to pull out, but the water was going to cool eventually. Plus they’d wrinkle like prunes. 

“We still need to get clean,” she prodded, nuzzling his cheek and feeling his facial muscles pull into a smile against her nose. They both groaned when he lifted her away from what was left of him inside her; he kept his hands on her waist to make sure she was steady when he set her down into the tub. 

——————————————————————-

Since breakfast was late they made it huge, filling up at a local diner Felicity loved. They discussed their upcoming evening plans with John Diggle, and when they realized Oliver could only cook breakfast and Felicity couldn’t cook ANYTHING they started brainstorming restaurant options. 

By the time John rang the doorbell they had run their errands, tidied up the apartment, taken a nap, and had a short list of places for the FBI agent to choose from for dinner. 

He picked Indian, which was a short walk from the apartment. The conversation was easy and light; this was a celebration, after all.

“Is it really over, John?” Felicity bit her bottom lip as she waited for his answer. The man smiled softly at her. 

“It’s over. Even without the evidence of his stalking and threats, Queen Consolidated’s army of lawyers will make sure Seldon never steps foot out of jail again.” His eyes slid to Oliver and received a determined nod of agreement. 

They parted at her doorstep. John scooped her up in a hug that lifted her off the ground and she kissed his cheek affectionately. He and Oliver shook hands before he turned away to retrieve his car. He raised a hand to wave one last time and then the night swallowed him up. 

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Oliver lifted his head to catch the hint of warmth in the Monday morning breeze ruffling his hair. Spring was on its way. 

“Not many weekends left for skiing,” he said absently, mostly to the sky. On the other side of the car Felicity turned to look at him as she closed her door and shoved her hands into her coat pockets. Her expression was soft; she didn’t respond. 

They met at the trunk and worked together to collect the two photo canvases, their tribute to Mary. Oliver tucked his under his arm and collected Felicity’s hand inside his own for the walk inside. 

Chairs had been set up in the common room; a refreshment table with coffee and hot chocolate and coffee cake sat off to the side. Carol spotted them from across the room and smiled sadly. Oliver’s mouth lifted at the corners as he waited for her to reach them, then he turned the canvas in his fingers and held it out for her to see. 

Carol’s face crumpled and he had to look away. 

When they’d found a way to prop them up at the front of the room all three of them stopped a moment to take them in, the giant print of Mary and Felicity modeling their bubblegum pink fingernails, and Mary the Snow Angel. 

“It was Felicity’s idea,” Oliver said, almost a whisper, and she squeezed his hand.

The room filled slowly. The Bridge ladies came; Agnes the drama queen was crying quietly, and for once it didn’t look like an act. Just as they were about to start an older man in a suit slipped into the room and walked past Oliver and Felicity in the front row to take a seat at the back. 

Carol rose first, turning to face the room and gripping a tissue between her fingers. She thanked everyone for coming and introduced Oliver with a sniff; Felicity squeezed his hand just as he got to his feet. 

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Felicity squeezed Oliver’s hand and he returned the gesture; her eyes fell to her own fingers for a second as he took his place at the front of the room. On the far side of Oliver’s empty seat Carol dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. 

How she loved this man in his steel grey suit, shifting his weight once, twice, then glancing at his shoes and clearing his throat with the hint of a bashful smile. His eyes were so soft as he looked up it made her breath catch.

“It may come as no surprise that Miss Mary put me up to this,” he began, and the crowd of people chuckled softly. Somewhere near the back a voice of complaint rose and Oliver tipped his chin in acknowledgment: He needed to speak up. 

“Mary Elizabeth Watkins was one-of-a-kind. She was feisty, and opinionated, and bossy.”

Individuals murmured their agreement, which made Felicity drop her eyes to her lap with a grin. 

“But she was also smart, and strong, and savvy.” Felicity glanced back up to see that he’d stuffed his hands into his pockets, seemingly more at ease. “She didn’t let me forget that I was here to atone for my mistakes, but she also made it clear she believed that I had the potential to do better. To be better.” One hand came out of his pocket to help illustrate his point. “She knew I had screwed up, but she also taught me that I didn’t have to be defined by my past. I could become something else. Someone else.”

Oliver paused, and his eyes fell to Felicity. “Mary knew what I needed to hear, and, more importantly, who I needed to be with.” 

He was still looking directly at her. He blinked once, long and slow. “And for that, I will forever be grateful.” Oliver turned back to look at the two photo canvases flanking him. “Thank you, Mary. For everything.”

Felicity felt the tears pooled against her lashes threaten to spill, but she glanced at the ceiling with a sniff and managed to keep them in check as Carol stood to switch places with Oliver. His hand came to rest on her knee as he resumed his seat next to her. 

Carol read the obituary written by Mary’s family, and then opened the floor for anyone else who wanted to say a few words. It wasn’t until the chef stepped forward that Felicity realized the doorway and walls were lined with nursing home staff; they must’ve drifted in after the service began. 

The chef offered a couple of funny anecdotes about Mary’s reaction to some of his meals, and soon everyone was laughing. A nurse’s aid came forward and shared her own tearful thoughts, and two different residents stood and said how much they would miss her. 

Oliver had taken her hand in his when he sat back down, but during the next break in sharing Felicity pulled her hand back gently in order to stand and face the crowd. She told everyone the story of Mary and the Central City snowstorm, and got to watch heads nod, impressed. 

Carol rounded out the sharing and then read a poem about rainbows; Felicity caught Oliver’s eye and they tried not to crack up, both of them imagining Mary rolling her eyes at the sappy sentiment. An invitation was given for the mourners to stay for refreshments and suddenly it was over. Felicity sighed and stared at the far wall for a moment. 

“I can’t thank you two enough,” Carol said as she reached out for their hands, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Mary would’ve been very pleased.”

The Activities Director looked up over their heads briefly and then back down at both of them. “There’s someone who’s asked to see you,” she added, tipping her head toward the back of the room. 

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The man who had slipped in to the service at the last minute turned out to be Mary’s lawyer. The three of them engaged in small talk over the refreshments for several minutes before he asked to speak in private. Carol must’ve known, because a small conference room was already waiting. 

“Mary asked to see me a little over a week ago,” he began. “She had some last-minute changes to her will. She also requested the pertinent parts of it be shared with you ahead of the formal reading with the family. It was a rather unusual request, but, as you can imagine, what Mary wanted”—he winked—“Mary got.”

While Oliver and Felicity smiled in agreement the man pulled a packet of papers from his briefcase and laid it on the table. 

“Mary held founders stock in Star Labs, and it has paid handsomely over the years.” His eyes roamed the room for a moment. “This is a lovely facility, but she could’ve easily afforded nicer.” He paused, and Oliver thought he was trying not to say anything bad about Mary’s children. 

His finger traced over the page until he found the spot he was looking for. “Mary’s last addendum to her Will was to create a Trust for the two of you.” He spun the packet toward Oliver and Felicity with his finger still holding the relevant line. They both leaned forward to read along. 

“The Trust, in the amount of two million dollars, is intended to be used to further your project to bring the latest technology to the elderly and those in underserved communities.” He looked up at Oliver. “While you and Ms Smoak are named Trustees of the money, Mary stipulated that approval from a Board is also required before any can be spent. She suggested a couple of names, but she has also given you the freedom to choose three candidates.”

Oliver glanced at Felicity; she looked like she was holding her breath. The man smiled at both of them. 

“Mary believed strongly in this idea of yours, and she wanted very much to see it happen. Your family’s money notwithstanding, Mr Queen, she felt this was the best way she could contribute to the project.”

Oliver nodded, numb from the shock. He felt Felicity’s hand fumble toward his under the table and he snatched after it to give it a squeeze. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally managed. 

The man chuckled. “It’s a lot to take in. There are a few forms for the two of you to sign, and then I’ll get out of your hair and let you process.”

Twenty minutes later they emerged from the conference room, still in a daze. Mary’s lawyer left them with a congratulatory handshake and then Felicity led the way into the common room and one of the chairs left out from the memorial service. 

“I know we’ve just been sitting, but...I need to sit down.”

Oliver chuckled, amazed himself. Felicity suddenly jumped and twisted to look up at him. “We have to tell Curtis! He’ll be so excited!” She was reaching into her coat pocket for her phone when her eyes caught something on the far side of the room. 

“Oh,” she breathed, rising immediately and beginning to walk away. Oliver’s brow furrowed in curiosity as he followed. 

It was the puzzle table that had caught her eye. From a distance it looked like it was complete; Felicity reached it first and ran a hand lightly over the picture of the mountain with the blue sky and the wildflowers. But then her fingers caught on a bit of it and she moaned in distress. 

“There’s a piece missing.”

Oliver watched her other hand reach out so both could sweep over the puzzle’s surface in search of the errant piece. Before he could blink she had dropped to the floor to look under the table and chairs, her movements more frantic the longer she looked. At one point he thought she mumbled the name “Albert”, but he couldn’t be sure and had no idea why. 

Carol approached as the search continued. She sighed when she saw the puzzle. 

“That’s a shame. The three of you had such fun working on this puzzle. I’ll always think of you together, right here.” Carol’s eyes grew misty and she sniffed. 

Felicity was standing again and looking forlorn. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but Oliver was sure she was apologizing to Mary, not Carol.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about it. We’ll just make sure to throw it away so no one else wastes their time.” She patted Felicity’s arm and turned away to get back to work. 

Oliver wrapped an arm around Felicity’s waist and hugged her against his side. 

——————————————————————

They were in the car driving home when Felicity patted her coat pocket and reached in to extract the small music box Mary had left her. She turned it over in her fingers to find the winding key at the bottom. 

“I should see what song this plays,” she said distantly. Her voice sounded drained. Oliver glanced away from the road to watch. A frown creased Felicity’s forehead; the key was stuck. She turned the box back over and opened the lid to inspect the mechanics inside, and that’s when a shake of the box made her make a little noise of surprise. When he glanced over again she was holding a puzzle piece between her fingers. Her eyes were huge. 

“Oliver! We have to go back! Before they tear up the puzzle!” Suddenly she was crying, frantic, the tiny piece clutched inside one hand while the other cradled the music box to her chest. Oliver swung the car around at the next stoplight, soothing her as best he could with his foot to the floor. 

They screeched into the parking lot and Oliver pulled the car straight up to the entrance, almost forgetting to turn it off before scrambling out and following on Felicity’s heels as she dashed through the front doors. Her sobs had turned into hiccups; she tripped over her own feet in her rush, but managed to recover without his assistance. 

“Felicity,” he gasped once, wanting to grab her and rein her in, but also knowing enough to give her space to grieve. 

She made a little noise, a gasp and a moan, when she burst into the common room and saw the table standing in the same spot, the puzzle still on top. Oliver pulled even and they walked together, Felicity’s demeanor calming immediately to something more quiet and somber. She circled the table until she could look at it right side up. 

Her fingers traced the outline of the missing piece for just a second before she completed the puzzle with the one in her hand. Oliver’s breath caught as she laid it in place without even needing to turn it to fit. They took a step back in sync in order to admire the finished picture; he reached for her hand and entwined their fingers. 

“Goodbye, Mary,” he heard her whisper.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I posted the first chapter of this story on New Years Eve of 2017 my original goal had been to finish this on New Years Eve of 2018, but it’s not quite ready. As a compromise, here is the first half of the finale: I apologize for nothing.  
> Happy New Year!

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He hadn’t sought her out, but he was glad to run into Thea. Oliver had decided to stop by the mansion Tuesday after his day at the nursing home to grab clean clothes and his laptop. 

“Hey.” He snagged her arm as they passed in the hall outside their bedrooms. “Are we skiing this weekend?”

“That depends. Are you gonna harass me about my boyfriend the whole time?”

Oliver tipped his head and huffed a sigh of frustration. “Speedy...”

“I mean it, Ollie. It’s my life. My choice. And you are not the boss of me.”

He tried to scowl, but it wouldn’t stick. His hand was still on her arm so he pulled her close and brushed a kiss onto the top of her head. 

“Skiing,” he prompted, dropping his chin to make eye contact with his little sister. 

“That’s the plan. Dad and I are headed out to Central City tomorrow for my first college visit, but we’ll come straight to the regional airport Friday night.” She beamed up at him and Oliver’s heart lurched, thinking about how fast time was flying. 

“College? Already?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Dad’s finally agreed to a fashion design major as long as I minor in Business. Central City U has good programs for both, so we’re going to check it out.”

Despite his shock that his baby sister was growing up—Boyfriend? College? What the hell?—the mention of Central City had triggered an idea. Oliver released Thea’s arm with a promise to see her later and headed to his room to make a call to his father. 

His other order of business for the week had been putting an offer on a certain green cabin in Alpine Village. With a little research he found a real estate agent he could live with—a chipper-yet-no-nonsense woman named Julia—and with her help had prepared a very strong offer. Despite her warning that the seller was asking too much, Oliver insisted on a full price offer with no inspection. Considering he was also able to pay cash, he didn’t see how it could be refused. 

Confident in the outcome of his little real estate venture, Oliver’s next plan was to break the news to Felicity in conjunction with a marriage proposal. The more he thought about it the more he let his imagination run wild. He wanted it to be on the mountain, in the cabin. In their cabin. He wanted their friends to be there; Curtis and his boyfriend had already agreed, and after the call to clear the idea with his father, Oliver set about tracking down Felicity’s college friends Caitlin and Cisco. 

By the time he pulled up outside her apartment Tuesday evening—clean clothes and cookies from Raisa in hand—he had the wheels in motion for a fabulous upcoming weekend.

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“So,” Oliver began, kissing slowly along her jawline, “skiing this weekend?”

He had stripped Felicity of her blouse and skirt in her living room and currently hovered over her on the fluffy white rug with her in nothing but a very new, very expensive bra and panty set. 

Felicity’s arms snaked up around his neck as she hummed with pleasure at his attention. 

“I’d go anywhere with you,” she murmured. The end of her sentence turned into a breathy moan as he let one of his hands drift down her side to explore all the skin not covered by his body. 

“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed with a nod against her throat; his fingers slipped under the fabric stretched across her hipbone and she arched off the rug toward him. 

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It was impossible to describe the way she felt under him. She’d only managed to get his shirt off him while he was busy undressing her, but the skin on skin contact—and the feel of that goddamn perfect rug under one hand—was overwhelming his senses. His jeans were really starting to constrict, especially when her exploring fingers slipped inside the waistband and the backs of her fingers brushed against the hair there. Oliver groaned and lifted away, denying her, but his avoidance only made her more insistent. 

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She worked to undo his pants as his mouth moved lower. The hard denim creases of his jeans felt amazing rubbing on her open thighs, but skin contact was better. 

Felicity’s fingers finished their job and skated back up his sides before sliding up between his chest and hers. “Off,” she murmured, meaning his clothes, giving him a push to get him moving. Oliver made a noise of disagreement and rolled his body against her, and she felt the tip of his erection, half-freed from his pants, catch against her center. 

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“More more more,” she moaned as she hooked a leg over his hip and tried to roll them. Oliver reached back to trap her leg and hitched himself forward again, pushing against the barrier of her panties. 

“Not. Yet.”

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She growled in frustration and need. Maybe the new lingerie had worked a little TOO well.

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The bra closed in front, which was handy under the circumstances. With one hand holding her leg and the other supporting his weight, there was only one alternative. He pulled his head back long enough to study the clasp, then dipped his head to the valley between her breasts and latched onto it with his teeth.

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The feel of her bra popping open made Felicity gasp; both his hands were accounted for. How did he—?

The feel of his tongue swiping over a nipple chased any other speculation from her mind. 

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She arched against him when he took the hard little bud of her nipple into his mouth.  
This was always the moment he wanted to just be inside her; sliding home into her tight velvety warmth was the best part of his day. But knowing he was driving her crazy while building her pleasure made him hold off his own needs so he could torture her in the best way possible. 

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Felicity’s hands scrabbled back to his open jeans and pushed against the clothing wildly. “Need you,” she panted. Oliver hitched her trapped leg higher and attacked the other breast in rebuttal. 

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“Whatta you want, baby,” he murmured.

“I want you to fuck me,” she moaned. A slow grin lit his face. The hand cradling her calf against him slid down toward her thigh; he clamped it tight and rolled them in one smooth motion. His back sank into the rug and he groaned with pleasure. 

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Felicity found herself on top, the straps of her bra hanging off her shoulders. She slipped her arms out and flung it in the direction of the couch. She was straddling the hard plane of his abs that he was flexing just for her benefit. 

She scrambled backwards to get her hands on all the clothing still separating their bodies. Oliver lifted his hips obediently as she pulled his jeans and underwear down and off his legs. She hummed appreciatively at the defiant angle of his erection and reached for her own silk-and-lace impediment before his hands landed on hers and stopped her progress. 

“Come here,” he whispered.

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Her knees landing on either side of his head as she settled against his mouth made him growl with need. Oliver laid the flat of his tongue against the fabric of her panties and pressed upward, his hot breath blowing across her center.

“Oliver...”

Her breathy sigh told him everything he needed to know about what she wanted. 

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Oliver-freaking-Queen sucking on her clit through her silk panties was the most erotic thing that had ever happened to her. If she could spare the brainwaves to ponder her life over these past few weeks it would probably make her weep with gratitude. As it was, she was too close to an orgasm to form coherent thoughts. 

He worked a finger underneath the leg elastic and pushed inside her just as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Felicity fell forward as she came, shuddering against his mouth through her soaking-wet panties. He grabbed her waist with one hand to keep her from toppling sideways until the orgasm had run its course. 

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Oliver didn’t want to waste a second, especially when she was still coming; he could tell by the glazed look in her eye. He shifted her sideways gently and rolled to follow, catching the waistband of those lace panties that would forever be burned into his memory and stripping them off her in one swift move. 

He lined himself up in the cradle of her hips and slid inside.

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It had never been like this: Overwhelming sensation, the floaty feeling that another orgasm was imminent, with the promise of maybe another—or two—after that. The feel of the rug enveloping her back and legs gave her goosebumps. Oliver sank inside her at the same time he pushed her hands above her head and tangled their fingers together. 

She was so full. Full of him, full of love, full of sensation. With his next thrust she came again. 

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He almost froze when he felt her writhe beneath him, lost in another orgasm, but his own body’s needs took over as his brain short-circuited. 

Oliver kept his eyes open as he thrust into her, not wanting to miss a second of her reactions to his desire for her. 

One more, he thought with an inward growl. Give her one more. 

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Just when she thought he had to finish or die, Oliver pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. She immediately rose onto her hands and knees, seeking him out, needing him back inside her.

“Oliver, please...” she begged, nearly frantic to feel him enter her again. He obliged.

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This angle was incredible; he groaned as he sank even further inside her. His hips snapped against her and she groaned wantonly. This was what she wanted too. Oliver remembered their first time on this rug, and the way he’d pushed her over the edge. Felicity mewled with pleasure as he sought out the nerve endings in her clit with one hand as the other traced down the seam of her ass. 

“Come for me,” he grunted, then grit his teeth because he’d almost gone over himself just saying it. He wanted to get the timing just right. 

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She was almost over stimulated, but there was still an edge there, a spot that she could focus down on. At the last minute she remembered to breathe, and with that it washed her away.

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Oliver felt her walls clamp down on him and he let go with a cry, emptying into her for a long long moment, blissful in his release. He finally pulled out to fall onto his back on the rug and she flopped down and rolled over into him, tangling her arms and legs with his and burrowing against his chest. 

“More,” she demanded in a weak voice; he hoped to hell she meant cuddling, because that was all he had left. He had the presence of mind to snag a blanket off the couch to throw over them before he wrapped her up in his arms and fell asleep. 

———————————————————

Friday dawned crisp and clear. Oliver grinned up at the sky as he crossed the parking lot to the nursing home entrance. He’d gotten word from Julia late the night before that his offer on the cabin had been accepted; part of him couldn’t wait for his father to see “Buyer: Oliver Queen” on the closing paperwork in thirty days. The rest of him was just glad it was done. The little house was safe, and his future—starting with this weekend—was looking very bright. 

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Felicity could hardly concentrate on her task; Oliver had insisted on picking her up from work to head straight to the mountain, so every time she shifted at her desk her feet brushed the suitcase stuffed under there and she got a thrill of anticipation. 

On an odd note, all day whenever Curtis caught her eye across the room he would grin broadly and give her a thumbs up; he was practically giddy, and she had no idea why. 

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John Diggle sighed into his gas station coffee cup. It had been a long week of late night stake outs and missing his new little family, but his special consulting case was almost wrapped up. Their perp would be in custody by the evening, and he could accompany both this guy and Seldon back to DC for arraignment on a private Saturday afternoon flight.

He closed his eyes and daydreamed of home.

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“Your chariot awaits, madam.”

Felicity turned from her work station with a red pen clamped in her teeth, and despite all the ways he’d seen her over these last few weeks, Oliver decided she had never looked more beautiful. He cocked his head to the side and let a happy smile just lift the corners of his mouth. 

“Hey you,” she replied, and his heart stutter-stepped with love. 

“All set?”

She nodded emphatically as she reached for the high heels she’d kicked off sometime earlier, then dived under her desk for a moment and came up with a rolling suitcase. 

Movement across the room caught his eye; Oliver saw Curtis give him a frantic wave and he tipped his head toward the door in response. The taller man practically threw himself out the door with his overstuffed backpack while Oliver blocked Felicity’s view with his body. So far, so good. 

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Oliver was unusually chipper during their trip to the lobby. He steered her toward the entrance when she would’ve turned for the parking garage, and when she looked up with questioning eyes he grinned down at her. 

“I did say chariot, didn’t I?”

He led her out the front entrance; a stretch Humvee sat at the curb with a driver stationed at the back door. Felicity’s jaw dropped.

“Wha...”

Oliver grinned and shrugged. “I wanted to be able to spend time with my girl.”

Felicity’s eyes were wide. “But...it’s so big...and...stretchy.”

His grin widened but he said no more.

The driver opened the door and Oliver indicated she should get in first. 

“SURPRISE!!” 

Curtis almost gave her a heart attack. He was inside the vehicle, a glass of champagne in his hand and his arms flung out. He was not alone. 

“Curtis?” Felicity paused just inside and Oliver’s hand pressed soothingly against her back. 

“This is my boyfriend Paul.” 

He and Felicity exchanged quick pleasantries as Oliver eased her forward into the vehicle so he could climb in after. Paul passed them each a glass and Curtis followed with the bottle of bubbly, chattering a mile a minute about how excited they were to be joining them. Felicity shot Oliver an amused glance at one point and his eyes twinkled.

The giant SUV pulled away from the curb and they settled in for the drive. Felicity curled up against Oliver’s side and he flung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. 

“Nice surprise,” he asked at one point, pressing a kiss into her hair as he gazed out the window.

“Mmm, so nice. But...” she hesitated. “It’s kinda big for just the four of us, isn’t it?”

Oliver shrugged with an enigmatic smile. “Who says it’s just the four of us?”

He wouldn’t say more, even when she gave him a teasing poke in the ribs. 

Their group conversation eventually circled around to their new endowment from Miss Mary’s estate, and the four of them began brainstorming ideas for getting their project started. By the time they felt the elevation change they had a whole list of action items. 

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The giant vehicle made its way carefully up the driveway to the courtyard of the Camp, once again lit merrily from within. The four occupants unloaded and tumbled into the house with their gear to find Moira waiting for them. 

She greeted her guests warmly and pulled her son in for a hug. Oliver kissed her cheek.

“Have you heard from dad,” he asked softly, his eyes on Felicity laughing about something with Paul.

His mother squeezed his arm. “He just called. They’re ten minutes out.” She ushered everyone into the Great Room where the Chapman’s and the Dorsey’s—including Olivia—were once again ensconced. Walter Steele was also there, leaning elegantly against the fireplace mantle with a drink in his hand.

“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

Felicity had drifted to his side and slipped her hand in his. Her chin came to rest against his shoulder and she planted a soft kiss there as she sighed. 

“Everything okay?”

Her eyes raised to his and she smiled softly. “I was just thinking this is the first Friday of the month. Chinese night.” 

He squeezed her hand but didn’t reply. 

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The front door opened bringing the sound of laughter with it. Oliver squeezed her hand a couple of times quickly but otherwise remained standing just inside the Great Room. She looked toward the hall just as Thea tumbled around the corner and flung herself at Felicity for a hug. 

“Hey girlie,” Felicity greeted her in surprise. Thea hung around her neck fiercely for just a second. 

“Had to get mine in, in case I don’t get another chance.”

She pulled away and bounced to Oliver’s other side with a mile-wide grin while Felicity stood there with her mouth open.

“Wha...” was all she managed before two more guests peeked around the corner from the foyer, and then her question became a squeal of delight. Caitlin and Cisco launched themselves down the hall at her and the three converged in a giant knot of hugs and kisses. Felicity momentarily abandoned Oliver’s hand in favor of her friends, but as soon as they pulled apart she reached for him and pulled him forward. 

“What are you DOING here,” she asked, bouncing on her toes as Oliver shifted from foot to foot, obviously pleased to have pulled off the surprise. 

“Thea and my father were in Central City for a couple of days, so I did a little detective work and added a couple of names to the flight manifest.” He finished with a shrug that made it seem like no big deal. 

“We FLEW here. In a PRIVATE PLANE,” Cisco gushed, his eyes wide. Caitlin couldn’t stop giggling. 

Moira Queen reappeared as Felicity was introducing her college friends to the room and called everyone to dinner. They filed into the dining room to find the buffet filled with steaming chafing dishes of Chinese food. 

Felicity shot Oliver a grateful look and he shrugged again happily. 

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A week of phone calls, emails, and texts had culminated in the satisfaction of seeing Felicity reunited with her besties; Oliver could’ve burst with pride. His mother had been a good sport about his request for Chinese food, and had even found a specialty chef for the evening. 

He was able to pull Thea aside and spend a little time with her while his girlfriend caught up with her surprise guests, and by the end of dinner they seemed to be back in a good place. Not that he wouldn’t still kill that Hoodie kid if he ever saw him with his sister again. 

His father looked happy, presiding over his weekend guests in a casual sweater and jeans. Walter caught Oliver’s eye and nodded once; he wanted to confide in the CFO about his real estate purchase, but knew it was in his best interest to keep it to himself for the time being.

His parents’ friends returned to the Great Room after dinner while the younger crowd wandered down to the basement where they spent the rest of the evening playing pool and geeking out over the vintage arcade games. 

Moira popped in on them once to give out room assignments. Because of the addition of Walter to their party Oliver found himself relegated to the Guys bunk room, but it looked as though Felicity would have to be surgically removed from Caitlin’s side anyway, so he made up his mind not to be disappointed about not being able to sleep with her. 

He finally shooed them all upstairs around midnight, knowing already this would be a tough crowd to wrangle in the morning. 

Felicity slipped her hand into his as their group ambled down the hall to the bedrooms, giggling and whispering and trying not wake the adults. He bumped her shoulder affectionately and she peered up at him. 

“Is that it for the surprises, Mr Queen?”

He let a slow smile light his face before he bent to give her a chaste kiss at her door.

“For today.”

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The whole evening became a blur of laughter and hugs and conversation. It had been months since she had seen Caitlin and Cisco, and even modern technology couldn’t replace having them with her in person. Oliver played host as unobtrusively as possible, but every time she glanced up he was watching her with a soft look and a shy smile. He looked really happy that she was happy, which made her melt. 

They hadn’t spent a night apart in two weeks, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind since it meant more time with Caitlin. He left her outside her door with a sweet kiss and a promise of—maybe—more surprises to come. Felicity’s feet didn’t seem to touch the floor as she got ready for bed. 

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The stretch Hummer caused quite a stir as it eased up the driveway to the lodge the next morning full of giddy skiers. Thea and Olivia had even opted to join them, though they could’ve left from the house just as easily. The novelty of it was even enough to chase the sour expression off Olivia’s face for a bit.

Sara was there to help with rentals, but she had taken a rare Saturday off to join in the fun. Oliver was once again grateful for her friendship and flexibility; most of his evening plans wouldn’t have been possible without her. 

The weather was gorgeous, the snow firm but not yet slushy. The only news that could possibly have dampened their day was that cell service to the mountain was temporarily interrupted due to a problem with the tower, but they all decided one day without outside communication would do them good. 

They tumbled out onto the snow, a happy group of mostly novices. Curtis and Cisco had chosen snowboards, so Sara was herding them off to the side for instruction. Oliver had the skiing crowd, and organizing them reminded him a lot of running Ski School for toddlers, a job he’d avoided whenever possible when he’d worked here.  
Thea and Olivia ditched them immediately, the fun having already worn off. 

Once he had them organized Oliver gave a quick refresher lesson and set off, Felicity trailing directly behind and imitating his turns. At one point he looked back to see a line of wobbly skiers behind him, looking like a bunch of baby ducks. He grinned, shook his head, and made his next turn. 

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John got the call as he was driving to the airport. Something had gone terribly wrong with the prisoner transfer.

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By late afternoon they were piling back into the limo, flushed and rumpled and laughing. The bar was stocked; Cisco did the honors. 

“Bunny’s tonight?” Oliver clinked his beer bottle against Felicity’s glass with a raised eyebrow. She nodded enthusiastically and slipped a hand beneath his arm; she’d missed him more overnight than she thought she would, and they’d never been alone the whole day. She was pondering where they could sneak away for a little alone time when she realized he was still speaking. 

“Hmm?”

Oliver chuckled. “I said, we can eat there if you want. They have good pizza.”

“Your mother won’t expect us to eat with them?”

“I kind of twisted her arm about the Chinese last night. She’s expecting me to return the favor tonight and stay out of her hair.” Felicity laughed and bumped him with her shoulder. “We need to take the girls with us too,” he added. He meant Thea and Olivia, and Felicity nodded. 

“Maybe after we could come back and watch a movie,” she suggested, to which he only smiled.

“Maybe.”

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Two agents and a ground crew member dead, three others wounded. A missing car and two missing suspects. John massaged his pounding headache and tried to focus. Seldon and Diaz had at least started out on the run together; that much had been confirmed. The car had been abandoned twenty miles north of the airport, and teams of agents were working to figure out what had happened after that. 

His eyes roamed over the map spread out on the hood of his rental car. If they’d made it inside the city limits it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Diaz might double back and head south to try to get to Mexico. Seldon...John ran a hand up over his head and cursed under his breath. 

Seldon would go after Felicity.

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Bunny’s was as busy as ever, but Oliver had planned ahead and had a long table set and waiting in the back for their arrival. He’d invited the whole mountain crew to join them; Sara and Buster were here, as well as a fellow ski instructor named Ronnie, who Caitlin couldn’t stop looking at even though she was trying not to be obvious. He’d even invited Little Tony, because Oliver didn’t hold a grudge, but he was busy driving a groomer on the mountain. 

He’d been paying attention when his sister ordered her drink and intervened to change “beer” to “root beer” with a stern look. He was pretty sure she’d mouthed “You’re not the boss of me” before sticking her tongue out. 

Drinks littered the table, pizza was on its way. Felicity was next to him, talking animatedly with her friends. Oliver leaned on his crossed arms and smiled at the faces around him: His people, her people, their people. 

So far the day had gone perfectly. 

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Neither Felicity nor Oliver had picked up any of the times he’d called, which was a lot. He’d sent officers to Queen Consolidated but they had been informed that none of the Queens—nor Felicity—had been in the building all day. He finally got confirmation from mansion security that the entire Queen family and several guests had gone to their home in the mountains for the weekend. 

John was calling Quentin Lance as he started his car.

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Felicity was having the time of her life. Caitlin had gushed all day about how gorgeous her boyfriend was, but now that his ski instructor friend—Ronnie?—had joined their party all thoughts of Oliver Queen had apparently vanished. Cisco was holding court across the table, swapping funny stories with Buster and being so generally outrageous that Sara kept winking at her as she laughed along with everyone else. 

By the time the pizza arrived Felicity was into her second glass of red—her third since the limo—and was feeling no pain. She giggled at everything; Oliver’s solid form wedged next to hers at the crowded table made her want to drag him to the bathroom and do naughty things to him.

Which is how she knew she was a little bit drunk. 

Oliver brushed the backs of his fingers over her arm and gave her a little smile when she grinned up at him. 

“You okay?”

She nodded sweetly. “Thanks for the best day ever.”

He leaned a little closer and she pooched her lips out for a kiss as their table mates erupted into oohs and ahhs. He obliged, then brushed his nose with hers and asked softly if she was ready to go. As if on cue, Sara slid out of her seat and disappeared into the crowd. 

This was it. The Hummer would take them all back to the Camp, except he and Felicity wouldn’t be getting out. They’d be taken to the little green cabin where Oliver would break the news that he’d bought it for them, and then he’d ask her to marry him. Sara had gone on ahead to light the zillion or so candles he’d asked her to stage the day before. It would be perfect. 

He was starting to sweat with nervousness.

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He picked up Lance off an exit and they traveled on to the mountain at speeds well over the posted limit. 

“You know this...Verdant Valley Ski Resort,” John asked, eyes on the road. 

Lance shifted in his seat. “Yeah, a little. My daughter lives and works up there. I’ve visited a few times.”

“You know where the Queen’s live?”

“I can get us there,” he growled.

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The crowd at Bunny’s as they filed out was, if anything, larger than when they arrived. A live band had started their first set, and the bar area overflowed into the dining room. Felicity’s hand slipped out of Oliver’s as they threaded their way through the mass of people, but when he glanced back worriedly she waved him off with a grin; he was so tall there was no way she could lose him. 

She squeezed past the last person and burst out into the crisp night air with a laugh. Their monstrous vehicle was struggling to get up the drive to them past all the other parked cars, so their little group decided to meet it halfway. Oliver was reaching back for her hand when she discovered she’d lost a glove, probably inside. She held the single one up to him with a laugh. 

“Go! I’ll catch up.” 

He nodded once; Felicity opened the front door and plunged back into the crowd. 

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His mind was busy rehearsing his engagement speech; Felicity’s hand slipped out of his as he pushed through the crowd and for a second he panicked, but when he looked back she was right there, grinning at him, happy. He blew out a breath to calm his nerves and continued on.

Their group reassembled outside Bunny’s, stomping and shuffling in the sudden cold after the warm humidity of the bar. Curtis pointed out their driver struggling to maneuver past the line of cars parked along the entrance road. As a group they began to make their way through the frozen parking lot to meet the Humvee half way; Oliver reached out for Felicity’s hand, but just as he did she laughed and waved a single glove in the air. She must’ve left the other one inside. 

“Go! I’ll catch up.” Her eyes were sparkling; it was possible she was a little drunk. She turned and pushed back through the front door. He thought about following.

He thought she’d only be gone a minute.


	34. Chapter 34

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Felicity slipped through the crowded room, retracing her steps. Hopefully they hadn’t cleared the table yet. 

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Oliver hesitated; his sister was just ahead of him, hoisting herself up into the SUV. He was next. 

“Come on, Ollie!”

“Felicity—“

“She’s a big girl. Get in!”

He gave the front door another look before he obeyed. 

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Lance found the right driveway on the second try and John allowed himself a sigh of relief: There were definitely people at home. The two shared a mutual look of hopefulness and got out of the car. 

Moira Queen met them at the door. Her face changed from curiosity to concern very fast.

“Agent Diggle?”

“Ma’am. There’s been an incident. Is Felicity Smoak here?”

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She circled the table. Bending over to peer underneath made her suddenly dizzy; she was definitely a little drunk. The world tipped sideways crazily and she grabbed a chair back for support as a hand snaked around her waist from behind. For a second Felicity thought it might be Oliver, come back to help look, but she knew the feel of him like she knew her own body. This was not Oliver.

“Whoa, buddy. Thanks, but—“

Her complaint was lost in the noise of the crowd. 

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Oliver reached for the door handle. “Maybe I should go back in.”

Thea reminded him it had only been two minutes at the same time the driver spoke up and suggested he at least turn the vehicle around first. 

Oliver let go of the door and sat back with a sigh. 

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By the time John finished his explanation there was a look of thunder on Robert Queen’s face.

“You haven’t been able to reach them because the cell tower up here is out.”

“Do you know where they are?”

Robert nodded. “They’ll be at Bunny’s. I’ll drive.”

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Felicity started to twist away, but her slightly floaty brain registered a new sensation that made her hesitate: There was something hard pressed against her rib cage all of a sudden. 

The arm—lean, unfriendly, but weirdly familiar—tightened almost painfully as it shifted her to his side. Felicity looked up and went cold all over.

“Walk,” he said. 

He guided them toward the back of the bar, prodded her to move faster—was that a gun?!—when they reached the Employees Only area. Felicity made a noise of fear and stutter stepped to avoid going into the kitchen, but Cooper didn’t even slow. He shouldered the swinging door open and pushed her through. 

“Hey!” A guy in a red hoodie was rolling a keg down the hall toward them. Cooper ignored him, but the guy must’ve seen the look of sheer panic on Felicity’s face because he righted the keg and straightened to his full height. 

“You can’t be back here,” he insisted, reaching out to snag Cooper’s arm, and hope bloomed in Felicity’s chest. But Cooper simply raised his elbow and cracked the kid in the face, dropping him to the floor before continuing on down the hall with her trapped against his side. 

No one else stopped them and they burst through the back entrance into the cold night air. She opened her mouth to scream for Oliver but he rammed the gun into her ribs again with a hiss to keep her mouth shut and marched her toward a four wheel drive with ski racks and covered in Dead Head stickers. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Oliver made his way to the front of the vehicle to talk to the driver about his plan to get them turned around. The man sighed in frustration; they were blocking traffic trying to get out of the parking lot. He suggested backing out the way they’d come. Oliver agreed it was the best option. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

“Cooper, please...”

He shoved her in on the driver’s side and made her scoot across so he could get in. 

“Shut up.”

“Where are you—“

His hand with the gun in it slammed onto the dashboard and Felicity jumped in terror. The look he gave her was full of rage but held no fear at all.

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

“I better go get Felicity,” Oliver decided. The driver was attempting to back straight out and allow the line of waiting cars to maneuver around him. He nodded approval and Oliver pushed past his boisterous guests to let himself out. 

He jogged to the entrance without looking left or right. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

The stretch Humvee—part of Oliver’s weekend surprise—was blocking traffic. Seldon beat the steering wheel with a fist in frustration and swore a blue streak. Felicity shrank away from him on instinct. 

Two cars ahead of them a figure was illuminated in the headlights as it jogged past toward the entrance to Bunny’s. The person’s jacket caught Felicity’s eye and she whimpered in recognition. Almost immediately the gun was back, prodding her shoulder painfully.

“Don’t.”

The limo was finally able to back up enough for cars to get by. Cooper’s hand—still holding the gun—slammed against the back of Felicity’s head and shoved her down into the seat as they drove past the SUV. 

Slightly dazed from the hit on the head, she began to cry.

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

The table was being cleared, but no one remembered a petite blonde searching for a missing glove. He checked at the hostess station and at the bar, but got the same answer both places. 

No one had seen Felicity. 

JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD

Robert Queen drove quickly but calmly; he looked to be good under pressure, which was probably where his son got it. John swiped a hand across his mouth and tried to calm his nerves. Oliver wouldn’t let her out of his sight. 

The parking lot was so busy patrons were leaving their cars along the road and hiking in on foot. Part of the problem appeared to be a stretch Hummer trying to drive in—or maybe back out—of the main drive. John suppressed a sigh: Rich people. 

“That’s them,” Robert confirmed, nodding toward the giant vehicle. John could practically hear Lance roll his eyes in the back seat. 

“Pull over,” John advised, wishing he had lights to put on so he could move through this mess. They approached on foot and were just pulling even with the front passenger window when Oliver burst out the front door. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS

“Coop,” she pleaded, still face-down on the ancient cloth seat that smelled faintly of pot. “Where are we going?” Tears streaked down her face and she really needed to blow her nose. 

He didn’t answer.

SL SL SL SL SL SL SL SL SL SL SL SL SL SL

Barring a conflagration from one of the candles, Oliver’s night was going to be perfect. Sara let herself out the front door of the cabin and jogged to her Jeep with a conspiratorial grin. She was so happy for him. 

The road out of Alpine Village had a steep turn just before the main road. She was slowing to make the corner when an ancient Subaru that looked like it was mostly held together with bumper stickers careened wildly through the turn. 

Sara caught sight of the driver as she veered out of the way with a colorful curse; he looked like a lunatic. 

She blew out a breath and continued back to Bunny’s. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

His heart stopped cold at the sight of Agent Diggle standing next to the Humvee. Quentin Lance was just behind him. This could only be very very bad news.

“Cooper Seldon escaped custody this afternoon at the Starling City airport. He’s on the run. Where’s Felicity?”

Oliver felt himself go cold all over. 

“I can’t find her,” he bit out, his skin crawling with dread. John studied the younger man with a frown. 

“How long has it been since you last saw her,” he asked at the same time Lance asked if the bar had a public address system. Oliver blinked once, trying to decide which question to answer first. 

“Less than ten minutes. And no.”

John glanced at the stretch limo and blew out a breath. “If you have any friends who aren’t dead drunk in there pick two to come with us.” Oliver dived for the back door and John looked at Lance. “You and Mr Queen take the front. I’ll send his friends in behind you and we’ll go around back.”

Lance nodded and jogged away with Robert behind him. Almost immediately Paul, Buster, and Oliver tumbled out the back of the Hummer and John sent them on their way. He and Oliver headed straight for the back of the building. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS

He didn’t let her look up until he’d brought the car to a shuddering halt and killed the engine, but even then she hardly had time to raise her head before he’d hooked a hand under her arm and jerked her across the seat and out the driver’s side door. 

It was the cabin: Fresh tears of terror mixed with the sudden hopefulness that Oliver might know to come look for her here. She needed to get Cooper talking to stall for time. 

It looked like he was just planning to break the glass in the front door to get in, but a soft glow through the curtains made him pause. Felicity watched him reach out and try the doorknob; it wasn’t locked. 

He swung the door open cautiously, clearly suspicious of this development. The sight of all the lit candles made her stomach swoop and drop. 

Cooper lost his shit. 

JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD

Oliver stayed just off his right shoulder, though John suspected he was primed to run headlong into the building if given the word. They rounded the corner to find the employee entrance door propped open with a rock. A guy in a red hoodie was in a crouch with his back against the outside of the building, his face cradled in his hands. 

“Hey.” Oliver hailed him like he knew him but maybe didn’t like him. The kid raised his head; it was clear he already had the beginnings of a shiner. His nose looked swollen. 

“Did you see anybody come out of here just now,” John asked. Oliver already had his hand on the door, ready to go in. 

“You mean the guy holding the blonde hostage who cracked me one when I tried to stop him?” His eyes were furious, still hazy with pain. 

“How long?!” Oliver was shouting. 

The kid’s eyes flicked to him, non-plussed. Definitely some history there, John thought. 

“Five minutes ago.”

Oliver let go of the door and John shifted his weight, ready to move. “Did you see where they went?”

Hoodie shook his head. “Just out is all I know.”

Oliver cursed furiously as he spun to scan the back parking lot. John left him to it and took off for the front of the building. That ridiculous stretch monstrosity would’ve slowed them down; there was a chance they were still in the parking lot. He pulled out his cell phone to call Lance before remembering about the tower. Dammit.

He bent to give each waiting car a quick check as he passed it but all he found were slightly exasperated couples or families. No Felicity or Cooper. The limo driver had stopped the vehicle where it was to await further instructions. John opened the front passenger door and spoke to him briefly to tell him what he needed, then he jogged to the back door.

The atmosphere inside the party bus was mildly subdued. Nobody knew if they should be concerned yet, so the air felt charged with anticipation. John barked at them to keep quiet and listen, just in case. 

“Felicity’s been kidnapped. She may still be in the parking lot with all this traffic mess, so I need everybody out and across the entrance to the drive. Play it up, act like drunken idiots, just keep any more cars from getting out of this lot. And DO NOT engage if you see her. The guy may be armed.”

The faces staring back at him showed a range of emotions, but it was Thea who nodded once and pushed her way forward with a beckoning hand for the others. John jogged back to the bar. 

It was time to call in the cavalry. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Oliver had never experienced this particular combination of fear and rage. It threatened to burn him alive from the inside as he ran from vehicle to vehicle in the lot, looking for Felicity. He concentrated on the back side of the building, trusting that John was out front. 

The terrifying thought that Seldon might have taken her away on foot occurred to him; he stalked to the edge of the lot and scanned the ground that surrounded the parking area. There wasn’t much open space before a wall of pine trees stretched up to the night sky, and none of the snow showed tracks. 

Oliver continued searching vehicles. 

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The sight that greeted her as she drove up the road to Bunny’s made Sara frown in confusion. Vehicles lined the road up to the driveway—which wasn’t an unusual sight on a weekend in-season—but it looked like lots of people were milling around out in the road at the entrance to a chorus of honking horns and flashing lights. The stretch Hummer Oliver had rented blocked half the drive. 

Sara ditched the Jeep on the side of the road and continued on foot toward the mess in the parking lot. The first face she recognized was Thea, her arm raised to lob a snowball at someone. Other familiar faces swam into focus as she got closer; they were all stumbling around laughing, clearly the focus of the honking and angry gestures from the cars they were blocking. 

“Thea! What’s going on?” 

The younger girl’s face went serious for a second. “It’s Felicity. She got snatched out of Bunny’s just as we were leaving. Agent Diggle wants us to cause a diversion in case she’s still in the parking lot.”

“Where’s Ollie?”

Thea pointed toward the bar and Sara headed that way. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

The shove catapulted her into the room. Felicity couldn’t keep her feet under her and fell to the floor in front of the fireplace, lit with a recently-built fire. She landed where the rug had been, once upon a time, cracking her elbow painfully on the wood floor with a whimper. 

Cooper shut and locked the door behind him; she risked a glance up and watched him scan the room full of glowing candles with a murderous expression on his face. His gaze fell to her and she couldn’t help scrambling backwards away from that look. 

“Was he planning to bring you up here for a romantic evening?” He snorted in contempt. “God, what a loser.”

“Cooper...”

He looked at her—really looked, like he was only seeing her for the first time—and his head shook a no very slowly. 

“I don’t see it,” he said softly, widening his stance and crossing his arms in judgement. “What does he see in you?”

Felicity’s eyes closed. He was a convicted felon, escaped and on the run and in more trouble than she could imagine. His words shouldn’t bother her anymore, but they did. They fell like blows, and she sank further to the floor the longer he went on, insulting and belittling her. She was only vaguely aware when his tone changed; he was asking her a question. 

“Wha...what?” She blinked up at the smug expression on his face.

“I SAID—“ he dragged out the word like she was stupid—“have you learned a few tricks since we broke up that I should know about?” 

Cooper’s smug look morphed into a sneer, his eyes snapping with a mix of rage and lust. 

Felicity went numb with fear.

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Oliver worked his way through every row of cars, finding nothing. He rounded the corner of the building at the same time Sara came into view, trotting up the drive with a worried look on her face. He tipped his head toward the entrance to Bunny’s and she met him at the door. 

JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD 

The interior of the bar was a riot of color, sound, and bodies; John shouldered his way to the hostess stand to find Robert Queen and Quentin, looking no less grim than they had minutes before. 

He didn’t even have to ask.

A tap on the shoulder brought him around to face a freaked out Oliver Queen with a short strawberry blonde at his side. Quentin stepped forward and wrapped her in a brief hug, then stood with her snugged against his side. 

“My daughter, Sara,” he explained, gruff but proud. 

“He got her past us. I’m calling more agents in,” John decided out loud. He watched Oliver’s mouth tighten to a thin line, but he nodded agreement. 

“Any idea where he’d take her?”

Oliver’s gaze went distant as he thought, but Sara’s eyes found John.

“A guy almost ran me off the road just now, as I was leaving Alpine Village.”

Oliver’s head snapped to her instantly. John fished for his phone and thumbed in the code, then scrolled through his photos as quickly as possible until he found a mug shot of Cooper Seldon. He offered her a look and watched her expression closely. 

“That’s him,” she said without a hint of doubt. 

No time for more FBI then. John turned his attention to Lance. 

“Get that group back in the Hummer and home to the Queens. Then lock it down.”

“I’ve already called the local police,” Robert Queen supplied. “They’re on their way here.”

John nodded. “You stay and bring ‘em in. Tell them no lights.”

Robert nodded understanding before his eyes shifted to his son. Go, they said.

John turned away, knowing Oliver would follow. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

As he followed John Diggle back out into the cold he felt a tug on his sleeve and reached back to catch her hand: Sara was coming with.

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS

Cooper advanced on her a step at a time. The only direction she could go was backwards, so she crabbed away from him, careful not to turn her back. When she reached the bed—still squatting oddly in the middle of the living room—she stopped, but his chin tipped up. Felicity swallowed bile and hauled herself up onto the coverlet and folded in on herself. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ

Sara drove, which was good since John didn’t have a four wheel drive. She was going fast, but Oliver still leaned forward, willing the Jeep even faster. 

“There,” he said excitedly, ready to jump out before she’d even come to a stop. John told her to pull over a couple of houses shy of their destination and they got out as quietly as possible. 

“Back door?” John barely whispered the inquiry and Oliver nodded once. He eased his keyring out of his pocket and isolated the correct key, but a chilling thought stopped him in his tracks. 

“What?”

“The door sticks. It’s noisy as hell,” he murmured, his heart pounding hard. “No way we can surprise him.”

“Upstairs window,” Sara hissed suddenly. Oliver bit his lip in thought as he looked at her. The lock on the window in the bathroom was busted. He’d had to boost her up into that window more than once when they’d locked themselves out after a hard night of partying. 

“Boost me up,” she continued, softly but excitedly. “I’ll make enough noise upstairs to distract him while you go in.”

He glanced at John, but the FBI agent was clearly leaving the call to Sara. Oliver finally nodded once, which was all the encouragement she needed. 

They threaded their way through the sparse pines and saplings of the neighbor’s property to the back of the little green cabin. The curtains on the first floor were closed; all was quiet. Oliver held his breath as they made their slow, painstaking way up to the house. With a nod to Sara he laced his fingers and lowered his hands for her foot, then hoisted her with practiced ease until she could set her feet on his shoulders while John spotted. 

The window only creaked for a second, and then Sara was hauling herself up and through. Oliver watched until her feet slithered through the opening, then motioned for John to follow him.

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“Cooper, you don’t have to do this.” Her voice was a broken, tremulous thing to her own ears, but she repeated the sentence anyway. Her eyes never strayed from his hands, one of which still held the gun. 

JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD 

This fucking job does not pay enough, he thought, his ear pressed against the door to listen for Sara’s diversion while Oliver eased the key into the lock. 

The crash above them would’ve awakened the dead. 

“Now,” he hissed, jerking away from the door so they could pull it open. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

Cooper was leaning over her and reaching for her bent knee when something huge crashed above them. Felicity yelped twice in succession: Once from the noise, the second time because the gun in Cooper’s hand came close to clipping her ear as he jerked back from her in surprise.

“What the...” His head swiveled wildly as he searched the ceiling, and just as quickly he had her chin gripped between his fingers, squeezing hard enough to make her eyes water. 

“That better not be your boyfriend, you bitch. Because if it is I’m gonna kill him.”

JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD JD

They slipped through the door and found themselves in the darkened kitchen. There was a flickering glow to their left. John glided along the floor, praying for no trip hazards. Or mousetraps. 

Oliver Queen was a ghost behind him. 

John eased up against the wall by the doorway and tilted his head around to get a look at the living room. It was lit by at least fifty white pillar candles. Terrific. Directly in front of him he saw a double bed with Felicity curled into a defensive ball in the middle of it. Seldon was standing in front of her with his hands on her. From his body language it was obvious he was pissed. 

John rolled away from the doorframe and held one flat palm up to Oliver. Wait, it said. The flinty look he got back said “fat chance”, but he narrowed his gaze in what he hoped was a warning and rolled completely into the open doorway. 

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Felicity saw movement from the corner of her eye, and though the figure was fuzzy she knew without a doubt it was John Diggle. 

She kept her gaze on Cooper but couldn’t stop her body from sagging with relief. His eyes narrowed and Felicity’s stomach dropped.

His face registered that they were not alone at the same time he swiveled away from her. 

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Sara crept to the edge of the second floor stairs and peeked over the railing. Cooper was looking at Felicity, not up at her, so she began her silent descent to the first floor. She was at the turn of the stairs when Cooper swiveled toward the kitchen doorway. 

The FBI agent couldn’t see that he was armed.

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Wait? Like hell. 

Oliver slipped into John’s recently-vacated space and took a look for himself. 

Felicity was there on the bed alright, but mostly blocked from view by John’s body. Cooper was to John’s right, facing away from him. If Oliver could get to the other side of the doorway he’d have a clear view of her. A chance to get to her. 

He stepped back into the shadows of the kitchen and slid to the other side of the room. There. There she was.

At the last second Cooper glanced to his right, toward the stairs, and almost simultaneously John lunged. 

Oliver only had eyes for his girl. 

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Sara launched herself off the next-to-last step and into the agent as two gunshots sounded.

There was a brief flash of white hot pain, and then, blessedly, nothing. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

Both guns went off near Felicity’s ear, but before she could even scream she was flying backward off the bed, wrapped in the arms of her love.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

Oliver Queen stood at the window looking out over a well-kept green space, but he wasn’t actually seeing it. The sky was ice blue and cloudless, promising a warm day, maybe the hottest of the year so far. He sighed. After everything they’d gone through, everything that had happened, here they were. A door behind him opened and he turned in time to see Felicity emerge in a cloud of steam. 

She made a whoosh noise and flopped onto her back on the bed with a sigh. She was wrapped in a towel. 

“Overheated,” she panted. Oliver suppressed a smile. She did love her showers unbearably hot. 

As he crossed the room he watched her unfold the top of her wrap and fling the towel open, leaving her completely bare to his sight. One of her knees lifted so her foot could perch on the bed and she gave him a seductive smile. 

“You’re going to make us late,” he murmured, dropping to his knees at the end of the bed. 

“We were already late.”

He slid his hands up beside her hips and dipped his head to lick a stripe across her center. “True enough.”

She came fast and hard, clutching at his head and pulling him up her body as she finished with more volume than she usually allowed herself in a hotel room. 

Oliver slid his pajama pants down and moved toward her, impossibly hard and needing to be inside her. She WAS overheated; he could feel the temperature difference between their bodies and she sighed as his coolness covered her. He pushed inside her but then lay still, taking a moment to enjoy the snugness of his body in hers. 

Felicity’s heels lifted to hook around his thighs and she closed her eyes and threw back her head. “Can we just stay like this all day?”

Oliver chuckled, a deep rumble that he knew she could feel, and left a trail of kisses against her neck. “I don’t think our board of directors would appreciate us missing our own ribbon cutting ceremony.”

She nodded agreement into his neck as she lifted her hips to encourage him to begin moving. He gave her two long slow thrusts before picking up the pace, and she panted encouragement beneath him, groaning with pleasure as she felt him nearing his release. His orgasm ripped through him, leaving him gasping, but he caught his own weight on his arms and pulled out of her with a sigh. 

“Now I have to take another shower,” she giggled.

“Not so hot this time, yeah?”

Felicity grinned as she stood up and pulled him with her into the bathroom. 

FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS FS 

He held her hand as they walked through the parking lot. They had hand-picked this nursing home in particular because it had a courtyard that reminded them of Mary’s day making snow angels. A crowd was already gathered and waiting in rows of white folding chairs. A large screen television sat on a cart behind them in the shade of the roof overhang.

Oliver squeezed her hand once as they approached the podium; she stayed by his side when he stepped forward to speak. 

“Thank you for coming out on this gorgeous day to help us celebrate the dedication of the Mary E. Watkins Technology Center here in Central City. Felicity and I are proud to say this is our second center to open this year. The second in what we hope is a long list of places for older generations to connect with their loved ones and the world through the latest, most up-to-date technology.”

He looked so natural there, shifting his weight comfortably as he transitioned through his speech; Felicity gazed at him proudly and wished his parents could see him. 

“Speaking of connecting, say hello to Miss Mary’s friends in Starling City.”

Oliver motioned behind him and they both turned to watch. Almost immediately the screen was filled with an enormous image of Curtis’s face. Several people in the audience chuckled. He waved and backed away to reveal the common room of the nursing home; there was a crowd of residents in attendance. The bridge ladies were there—even Agnes—all of them showing off bubblegum pink fingernails. Carol beamed from the back of the group.

Felicity glanced back at their live audience; several people were waving at the Starling City contingent.

“As exciting as today is for us, this is only Phase One for our Foundation, graciously funded by the estate of our dear friend Mary Elizabeth Watkins,” Oliver continued. Felicity’s gaze roamed the crowd and settled on the line of smartly dressed adults in the front row. They were Mary’s children, and they were not smiling. 

“By the fourth quarter of this year we will be celebrating the grand opening of the first Mary E. Watkins Youth Technology Center in the Glades of Starling City. It will offer both before and after school STEM programs and tutoring for the underserved youth of the Glades.”

Oliver paused to let the applause die down. From her place at his side something caught Felicity’s eye at the back of the crowd. Two heads peeked around the side of the building, and then Caitlin and Cisco sidled around the corner. Caitlin grinned and gave her a little wave as Felicity’s head tipped in confusion and amazement. She threw a look at Oliver, but he was already speaking again. 

“We have a lot of people to thank for our success so far, not the least my parents, Robert and Moira Queen, for their pledge to match the original amount of the trust which enabled us to move forward so quickly this first year.” Felicity watched Oliver turn away to the television and looked back with surprise to see Mr and Mrs Queen on the screen with the residents. They both smiled and waved as everyone clapped. 

Oliver cleared his throat and smiled softly. “There is one person in particular that I am grateful for.” Felicity’s heart stopped and then began thudding hard as he turned to gaze into her eyes. “Someone that has stood beside me when times were darkest. She is the one who lights my way.”

She held her breath as Oliver circled slowly around her with a grin. 

“Felicity Smoak—“ he dropped to one knee in front of her as several people in the audience gasped—“will you make me the happiest man on the face of the earth?”

He was holding a beautiful, simple solitaire up to her with the sweetest, most earnest expression she had ever seen. Felicity dropped to her knees in front of him with a nod and a giggle. 

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

The audience erupted into cheers as they kissed, and then he was sliding the ring onto her finger and pulling her up for a hug. Caitlin and Cisco were bouncing around with joy in her peripheral vision, and when she and Oliver pulled apart she could see the nursing home crowd in Starling City cheering and waving on the tv. Moira blew them a kiss while Carol cried. 

OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ OQ 

It was almost an hour before he could get her to himself for a moment. After the usual round of photos, handshakes, and refreshments Felicity had gravitated to the residents of the nursing home being introduced to the new technology at their fingertips. Oliver took a moment to lean against the doorway of the common room and watch her help an elderly man make a Skype call to his children on the east coast. 

“She’s pretty amazing,” Caitlin sighed at his shoulder, a cup of punch in her hand. Oliver nodded agreement. 

“She certainly is.”

“Thanks for arranging it so we could be here today.”

Oliver glanced at her. “Can I tell you a secret? I was supposed to do this the last time we were all together.”

Caitlin smiled softly with a knowing look in her eye. “We figured.” She shook her head quickly and shuddered. “I still have nightmares about that night.”

“You and me both,” Oliver agreed emphatically. 

She laid a hand on his arm as Cisco wandered in their direction. “Cooper’s away for good this time. He can never hurt her again.”

Oliver dropped his head to study the floor as he nodded. He knew this, but it was always nice to be reminded.

“Great party, bro.” Cisco had a fistful of cookies and a cheesy grin. 

“Thanks,” Oliver chuckled, but he was already shifting off the doorframe to head toward his fiancée who was finally unoccupied and studying her phone. 

“Hey.”

She glanced up and grinned at him, then angled the phone for him to see. “John sent a new picture of baby Sara.” He obediently looked and nodded appreciatively as her head tipped in curiosity. “He also offered congratulations. Did he know this was going to happen?”

Oliver smiled bashfully. “Yeah. I wanted to get him out here, but he’s been really busy lately.” He offered her his arm and she slipped hers through so her hand rested ring-up on his sleeve. They both looked down at her new accessory and smiled. 

“It’s beautiful. You did a good job.”

Oliver sucked in a breath and held it a second. “Mary did a good job. Or, her second husband did, I guess.”

Felicity’s gaze flew to his for confirmation; he pulled his lips in and nodded. 

“It was...hers?” Tears welled up but she blinked them back, pretending to study the diamond as she got her emotions under control. “Guess that would explain why her daughter gave me a death look when we shook hands earlier,” she laughed, making Oliver chuckle wryly. 

“Hey, Sara sends her love, by the way. She was sorry to miss it, but summer classes have already started and she’s got a lot of catching up to do.”

Felicity grinned up at him. “Darn that FBI Academy for requiring a bachelor’s degree first,” she teased. 

Oliver sighed. “I’m just glad she found her passion. Even if she had to get shot to figure it out.”

“You found yours too,” she reminded him. 

In more ways than one, Oliver thought. He reddened under her praise and hummed agreement as he glanced around the room. “You ready to go? Caitlin and Cisco are waiting to take us to dinner.”

“Oh?” Felicity’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Where are we going?”

Oliver brushed a kiss across her temple and smiled as he led her away. 

“It’s the first Friday of the month. You tell me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you for taking this ride with me. I had no idea the first chapter I thought up while putting a puzzle together last Christmas would take just over a year to turn into a complete story. Since I’ve listened to this Playlist about 5000 times I thought I’d share some highlights from it. Sorry there aren’t any links. ;)
> 
> Astronaut (Something About Your Love)  
> by Mansionair  
> Sugar We’re Goin Down  
> by Fall Out Boy  
> Brown Eyed Girl  
> by Van Morrison  
> Angela  
> by The Lumineers  
> Silvertongue  
> by Young the Giant  
> Bloodflood  
> by alt-J  
> This Is On Me  
> by Ben Abraham & Sara Bareilles  
> Want You Back  
> by Haim  
> Primary Colors  
> by Magic!  
> The Fallow Way  
> by Judy Collins  
> I Think I’m in Love?  
> by Phangs  
> How Would You Feel (Paean)  
> by Ed Sheeran  
> Friends  
> by Francis and the Lights  
> Dark Blue  
> by Jack’s Mannequin


End file.
